


Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley!

by Caedmon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Frottage, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Intercrural Sex, Lots of smiling in this, Love at First Sight, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated E for “everyone wang chungs later”, Rimming, Romance, creepy stalker behavior in later chapters (not by main characters)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 124,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he'snotexpecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he'scertainlynot expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3577
Kudos: 1507
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to my new AU! I've been working on this story for a little over a month and I'm so excited to share it with you!
> 
> The usual disclaimers -  
> ~ I own nothing but the mistakes. All the mistakes are on me.  
> ~ I'll be updating on Wednesdays and Saturdays until The Pact finishes posting, then I'll be switching to my usual Mondays and Thursdays. In five years, I've missed _one_ scheduled posting day and it was due to a hurricane. You can trust my posting schedule.  
> ~ This fic would not exist were it not for the love and support and brainstorming help of Rose__Nebula and Naro Moreau. They've both made invaluable contributions and have been amazing soundboards. The britpicking is by my glorious twin, Lurlur. Thank you all so much!!  
> ~ This is going to be a long one. I just finished writing chapter 25 today, and I would guess there's about another 7-8 chapters to go.
> 
> And finally,  
> ~ your kudos, comments, and hits are the life blood of the muse. Thank you for them. <3
> 
> Cover art by Rose__Nebula!!  
> 
> 
> Now with a [kickass playlist](https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F3phMSm2izltNiuWXQuik3H%3Fsi%3D1OGdm5t3RPGw35f49ZHtsQ%26fbclid%3DIwAR0N8LuMrwG0HDHgOsXMC6Y3yyRyd7h5y9E87sXYnFKp02nCX9foPGWXxRs&h=AT13Hr55Ju1F_B_iNCWjO5Cn8caeZRF522t_MibH65rINc2dPa3Opw5dDRAKv_Tsc9LkRVwp-T2yi1X4vhPQB50tCJT_fqV-CaXZ2BvBBEYggmwDQFZkgYDp2Ej-LdCH_vi1hIqObstK72GvUyE) by kelark59! Thank you!

_Monday, 12 April, 2021_

Crowley was in a mood that would best be described as ‘gritchy’ - a hybrid of grumpy and bitchy. He’d been agitated and irritable about this night for weeks, and now it was here. He was in the back of a limo with Anathema, his manager, headed towards the Ritz for a ‘date’ with a contest winner, and _not_ happy about it. For the last twenty years, he’d worked his arse off, writing music, performing in dingy clubs and pubs until the big breakthrough, and now his name was synonymous with ‘rock n roll’. But that hadn’t saved him from tonight, when he’d basically agreed to sell his body for charity. He’d spent the last six weeks dreading tonight and the nightmare it was sure to be, pushing thoughts of it aside as best he could. But he couldn’t do that any longer. 

“Do I _have_ to do this?” he asked Anathema for what had to be the fiftieth time. 

She didn’t look up from the paperwork in her lap, and her long, brown hair shrouded her face. Crowley knew what he’d see, though - total concentration on the task in front of her and no care at all for his whining. 

“Suck it up, Crowley. You’re not doing this for you.”

“I’d rather not be doing it at all,” he griped. 

Anathema shot him a look. “This contest raised a _lot_ of money for children with cancer. You’re a hero.”

“I don’t _feel_ like a fucking hero.”

“Well, you are,” she said matter of factly in that _way_ she had, and went back to her paperwork. 

Crowley harrumphed. 

Anathema rolled her eyes. “It’s _one dinner_ , Crowley. Forty-five minutes of your life.”

“Yes, but that’s forty-five minutes I’ll never be able to get back,” he pointed out. “I’m going to have to pretend to give a shit about whoever this person is, and I _don’t_.”

“That’s not true. You love your fans.”

“I don’t love the nutters. And this person is almost certainly one of the nutters. The superfans. The _stans_. You know the type. They love me, but they also want to wear my skin. I might die tonight,” he finished dramatically. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You won’t be dying tonight.”

“I might!” he countered. “And even if I _don’t_ die, I’ll have to keep a shit-eating grin plastered on my face the whole time and pretend to be interested in whatever they’re talking about. I mean, what if this person really is certifiable? What if they’re actively obsessed? What if they stab me with cutlery?”

“You’re catastrophizing,” she said absently. “That’s a thinking error, and you know it.”

“What if she tries to poison my drink? Or he, whatever. What if they try to roofie me?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen. Security vetted them. My understanding is that he seems like a nice guy. And if he’s _not_ , all you have to do is call for Shadwell, and he’ll be gone in a minute.”

“What if he’s _boring_?” Crowley tried again, feeling petulant. 

Anathema flipped a page idly. “Then you take a leaf out of Robert Pattinson’s book.”

Crowley was confused. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“He had this fan that was obsessed with him and wouldn’t leave him alone. So he asked her to dinner. And all through the meal, the only thing he did - literally, the only thing he did besides eat - was complain about his life. He left such a bad taste in her mouth, she left him alone after that.”

He blinked. “That’s… pretty genius, actually. Do you think it would work?”

Anathema shrugged. “It worked for him. But I don’t think you’re going to need to do that. This doesn’t seem like an obsessed fan.”

“Well, they never _seem_ like it, do they? The really whacko ones always seem normal, on the surface.”

His manager had had enough. She slammed her hand down onto the papers in her lap frustratedly and turned to him, her eyes flashing behind her round glasses. “I wish I could record this and play it back for you later. You don’t even _sound_ like yourself, you sound like a whiny child. _Not_ like a huge rock star whom I know for a fact is wholly dedicated to his fans.”

Crowley muttered under his breath. 

Anathema sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s going to be _fine_ , Crowley. This man has been vetted, like I said, and there were no red flags. He might be boring, but if he is, it’s literally only forty-five minutes. I promise - I _swear_ to come rescue you after forty-five minutes. I won’t make you wait an extra second. But by doing this, you raised a boatload of cash for Great Ormond Street Hospital. Just think about that while you’re wearing your shit eating grin, alright? Almost two hundred thousand pounds. Kids with cancer. You’re a hero.”

Crowley sighed as they pulled to a stop beside the Ritz. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it. And I’ll pretend to be happy about it. But I _won’t_ be happy, and I want you to know that.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“Good.”

The door to the limousine was opened and Crowley took one more deep breath before he got out and ducked into the back entrance, Shadwell in tow.

~*~O~*~

Five minutes later, he was sitting at a table in the Ritz, tapping his fingers against the linen-covered table, waiting for Anathema to bring him his ‘date’. He was still terribly unhappy about what he’d gotten himself into, but Anathema was right. This was only forty-five minutes, and he was helping a lot of needy kids. He could suck it up. He could. And then, when he left here, he’d go have a drink and forget about the whole experience.

“‘Hi, I’m Crowley’,” he said in a low voice, practicing sounding polite and interested, smiling at no one. “‘Hello, I’m Crowley.’ No, that’s too fucking formal. ‘I’m Crowley, how do you do?’ Christ, that’s _worse_.” 

Across the restaurant, he saw Anathema sweeping in, followed by a man dressed all in light tones. The man looked a little nervous, but Crowley figured he should have expected that. What was striking, though, were the man’s clothes - he was dressed very oddly for 2021 in waistcoat, bowtie, and longish coat. He had snowy blond hair, but Crowley couldn’t really see his face. He closed his eyes behind his glasses and sent up a prayer that the next forty-five minutes would fly by. 

“Crowley,” Anathema said when she was close enough, “I’d like to introduce you to our contest winner. Mr. Aziraphale Fell.”

Crowley opened his eyes to look at this man, Aziraphale, and nearly lost his breath. This man - this man was _gorgeous_. He had fine, delicate, sweet features and stormy blue eyes, the kind of eyes that would likely look different based on his moods, or his clothes. He was still looking around the room, paying Crowley very little attention at all. Nobody _ever_ ignored Crowley. He was always the center of attention in whatever room he was in. The fact that this man wasn’t looking at him was… intriguing. 

He was still wary - sometimes the nuttiest ones were the prettiest ones. Crowley couldn’t let his guard down. But blimey, this man was gorgeous. It wouldn’t be a hardship to look at him for the next little while. 

“Hi, I’m Crowley,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand. 

The man finally looked at him with an unsure smile and oh, shit, he was even _more_ gorgeous when he smiled. He looked like a goddamn angel. _Shit_. 

“Aziraphale Fell,” he said, offering his hand in return, and Crowley took it. He felt a pulse of electricity skitter up his arm and he realized with a jolt that he was _attracted_.

Shit!

“I’ll just leave you two to it, shall I? Crowley,” she said to get his attention from behind Aziraphale, and he tore his eyes away from the angel to look at her. She gave him a bolstering smile, mouthed ‘forty-five minutes’, then gave him a thumbs-up and turned to leave. 

“Shall we sit?” Crowley said, once they were finally, mostly alone. Aziraphale looked a bit uncertain, not eager the way Crowley had anticipated, and again, Crowley was intrigued. They went to the table and he resisted the temptation to pull out Aziraphale’s chair, like a gentleman. Barely. 

As soon as they were seated, a waiter appeared beside the table to bring menus and a wine list. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, looking down at the wine list. “I, um, I don’t quite know what to order.”

“Do you prefer red or white?” Crowley asked politely. He found that he wanted to please this man, ridiculous though it may seem. 

“White.”

Crowley turned to the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of Pape Clément Blanc and two glasses, please.”

“Very good, sir,” the waiter said, then left. 

Once he was gone, Crowley turned back to Aziraphale with a smile. “I hope it’s alright that I ordered for you.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s fine. I had only intended to order something more inexpensive…”

Crowley tilted his head to the side, confused. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, I understand this meal is being paid for by the charity, and I’d like for as much of it as possible to go to the children…”

“I’ll pay for the meal myself,” Crowley said quickly, surprising himself. “That way, the hospital gets all the money.”

“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. Would you consider letting me pay for my own meal?”

Crowley was flabbergasted. This man wanted to pay for his own meal? Was he kidding?

“Are you serious?” he asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses. 

“Yes, quite.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m happy to pay,” Crowley said, unable to believe he was having this argument. Was this a ploy of some sort?

“But I’ll feel ever so much better if I did,” Aziraphale said, looking earnest, and Crowley believed he _was_ earnest. He truly _did_ want to pay for his own meal. Unbelievable. 

“Well, alright,” he said, still stunned, and not entirely sure what to think. 

Aziraphale gave a smile and a little _wiggle_ and goddamn it, it was the cutest thing Crowley had ever seen. Baby animals had nothing on Aziraphale. Crowley felt his attraction grow. Shit!

The blond man was going over the menu, and Crowley turned his own attention to the menu in his hands, glancing up at Aziraphale every few seconds. Aziraphale never looked up. Crowley might as well have not been in the room. He had no idea how he felt about that - but thought he liked it. 

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and took their orders. Crowley noted that Aziraphale didn’t order the cheapest thing on the menu, but it was towards the bottom of the price list. He was still stunned. He’d only known Aziraphale for a few minutes, but he had a strong hunch that Aziraphale was unlike anyone he had ever known. Crowley didn’t know whether that was terrifying or exhilarating. 

When the waiter left, Crowley picked up his wine, took a sip, smiled a genuine smile, and said, “So what do you do, Aziraphale?”

“I own a shop,” he said with a small smile in return, then took a sip of his own wine. “Oh, this is _very_ good,” he said with his brows knitted in surprise. 

Crowley grinned. “It is good,” he agreed. “What type of shop?”

“It’s a bookshop.”

“Any particular types of books?”

“No, we’re just a typical bookshop - except we _do_ have a rather large section of rare and antiquarian books.”

“Oh? That’s interesting.”

Aziraphale laughed and the sound was like music to Crowley’s ears. He wanted to hear that again and again, and resolved to try to make Aziraphale laugh more. 

“It’s not that interesting, really, unless you’re into rare books?”

Crowley was seriously considering _getting_ into rare books.

“I don’t know much about them,” he said honestly. “But I’d be interested to learn.”

“What types of books do you like to read?” Aziraphale inquired. 

“I, um, I don’t always have time to read. It’s sporadic. Work keeps me busy.”

“Oh? And what do you do for work?”

Crowley gaped at him, stunned. How could he…? No. This had to be a prank or something. Anathema was having him on. It _had_ to be. There was no way this man didn’t know who he was. 

“You’re taking the piss,” he said, smirking to hide his disbelief. 

Aziraphale flushed. “I’m not. I know you must be famous, but I’m afraid I don’t know what for. I do hope you’ll forgive my ignorance.”

Crowley watched him carefully as he answered, just as he had with the thing about splitting the bill. Again, he seemed _genuine_. As unbelievable as it was, he suspected that Aziraphale was telling the truth and didn’t know who he was. 

He scrambled to think of what to say next. Finally, he landed on, “I’m a musician, actually.”

“Oh? What do you play?”

Still stunned, Crowley said, “A little bit of everything, but I’m mostly known for playing guitar and singing.”

“What kind of music do you play?”

 _Whatever you like, I’ll play anything you want_ , he thought. 

Crowley cleared his throat to get rid of the wayward thought and said with a smile, “I play rock and roll, mostly. I guess you could call it pop rock, but I fucking hate that label. I’m not like Gwen Stefani or Lady Gaga. More like Coldplay or Imagine Dragons. Maybe Foo Fighters. Someone like that.”

“Oh, you might as well be speaking Greek, I’m afraid. I’m not terribly familiar with much modern music. I like it alright, when I _do_ listen, it’s just that I’m more of a relic of the past, I suppose.”

Crowley was even more stunned. “Well, what _do_ you like to listen to?”

“I enjoy classical music most, but I also like to listen to jazz and big band music. Billie Holiday, people like that. But I’m willing to listen to anything, truly. Perhaps I’ll look up some of your music tonight.”

“Don’t,” he said suddenly, startling both of them. 

“Why not, dear?”

Crowley couldn’t articulate an answer, but had a good reason. If Aziraphale was being genuine - and Crowley believed he was - that meant that Aziraphale had no preconceived notions about him. His opinion of Crowley would be shaped solely by _Crowley_ , not any outside influences. That prospect was dizzying, and Crowley wanted to take advantage of it. 

“I just...I don’t think you’ll like it, and I’d hate for you to waste your time.”

Aziraphale smiled kindly. “I doubt it would be a waste of time, but I’ll respect your wishes nevertheless.”

Crowley smiled in something like relief. “Can I ask you something?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why did you enter the contest, if you didn’t know who I was?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, looking taken off guard. His cheeks colored again. “Well, I’ve always wanted to dine at the Ritz. It’s long been a bucket list item of mine, if you will, and I very much enjoy supporting various charities, so I bought an entry. I never dreamed I’d _win_...”

“So you bought an entry to win a date with someone you didn’t know because you wanted to eat at the Ritz and support charity?” Crowley asked, smiling in disbelief, utterly charmed. 

“Yes, that’s right. Is that - is that wrong?”

“Nuh-uh,” Crowley said, shaking his head. “No, I’m very, very glad you did that.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks were rosy and he looked away. Crowley just grinned. 

The waiter reappeared with their plates of food, breaking the moment, and served them both with a smile. When he left again, Crowley looked at Aziraphale and found him peering at his plate, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really, I just asked for no onion and there’s onion on here.”

“No problem,” Crowley said, raising his hand to call over the waiter. “I’ll just --”

“No, don’t!” he said, reaching out to stop Crowley. Then he flushed. ”It’s not a big deal, just a trifle annoying. I’ll pick them off.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that. You’ve always wanted to come here, your meal should be perfect. They should have gotten your order right. What if you had an allergy to something?”

“It was just an honest mistake, truly. Here,” he said, quickly picking off the onion. “Now it’s like it never happened. Please don’t upset our waiter.”

“I don’t think he’ll be _upset_ ,” Crowley said. “But okay. Whatever you want.” He couldn’t help but be a bit mystified by this response. It had been nearly twenty years since he’d been around someone who was truly selfless, as Aziraphale seemed to be. Most of the people in Crowley’s life were brash and abrasive, out for number one. More and more, Aziraphale was looking to be completely different from anyone and everyone in Crowley’s life. 

Aziraphale treated him to another smile that was nearly blinding and holy _fuck_ , did Crowley want to see more of that. He knew, in that moment, that he wanted to see Aziraphale again. And again. And again. Fuck it all, he had a _crush_.

Feeling himself flush, Crowley turned to his meal. He’d just speared a bite of his food when he heard the most erotic sound he’d ever heard outside of a bedroom or a porno in _years_. With wide eyes, he looked up to see that the sound had come from _Aziraphale_ , who had just taken a bite of his food and was chewing, his eyes closed in bliss. Crowley swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way his cock was twitching in his pants. 

“Is it good?” he asked in a slightly choked voice. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes wide and nodded slowly, still chewing. When he swallowed, he said, “Absolutely scrummy,” with a smile. 

_Scrummy_. Fuck, even _that_ was charming.

Crowley cleared his throat and began to eat his meal, looking for something else to say. “So, um, Aziraphale is an unusual name…”

Aziraphale gave a tired smile, as if he heard that a lot. “It is. My parents were religious scholars. Aziraphale is the name of an angel.”

“An angel?” Crowley said, a smile quirking his mouth. “Really?”

“Yes. A principality, actually. Why?”

“It’s just that when I met you, I thought you looked like an angel,” he replied flirtatiously, his heart thudding in his chest with nerves. When was the last time he’d been nervous flirting with someone? It had been years and years! But he was now. Swallowing, he went on. “It seems I was justified in thinking so. You really _are_ an angel.”

Aziraphale flushed becomingly, smiling and looking down at his plate, and bloody _hell_ was that cute. 

“Thank you, dear,” he said, his cheeks and ears still red. 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed even redder, and Crowley smiled to himself. 

“What’s _your_ name?” Aziraphale asked a moment later, when he’d recovered. 

“My name?”

“Yes. I assume Crowley is your stage name?”

“Ah, yes. It is.”

“So what’s your _real_ name? Or is that too forward of me to ask? Oh, please do forgive me…”

“No, it’s fine,” he hastened to assure him. The truth was, he was flustered. His name was an open secret in the music industry, the same way Madonna’s and Sting’s real names were. No one had actually _asked_ his name in a long time. It was refreshing.

“Crowley is my surname. My given name is Anthony. Anthony Jay Crowley.”

“What does the J stand for?”

“It’s just Jay, really.”

“Well, I think that’s a lovely name. Would you prefer if I called you Anthony?”

 _You can call me anything you want,_ he almost said, but bit it back just in time. 

“Only my mother calls me Anthony, and I’d really rather not lump you in with my mother.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “No, quite right.”

“So do you live here in London, angel?”

“I do. I have a flat over my shop, in Soho.”

“Ah, Soho. I spent a lot of my time there in the late 90’s and early 00’s, playing in pubs.” 

“Yes, it has quite a thriving music scene. Where do _you_ live?”

Crowley debated how to answer without sounding like a ponce. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to. “I live here in London, mostly. I have a flat in Mayfair.”

Aziraphale looked intrigued. “Mostly?”

He could feel himself blushing. “Well, yeah. I also have a home in Scotland, and one in L.A. But I spend most of my time here, in London.”

“Goodness,” Aziraphale said, sounding impressed. “You must _really_ be famous.”

“I… yeah. I kinda am.”

“Well it was _very_ good of you to donate your time and your name to charity. Very good of you, indeed.”

Crowley suddenly had the impulse to lend his name and time to loads more charities. As many as he could make time for. Anything to get that admiring smile from Aziraphale again. 

“It was my pleasure,” he said, fudging a bit. “I’m glad to have done it - especially now that it led me to meet you.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks flamed again, and Crowley thought that was a good thing, wasn’t it? He devoutly hoped so. 

The waiter reappeared to remove the plates and bring dessert, and Crowley panicked a little at the thought that their time was coming to an end. He scrambled to try to think of a way to prolong it. He needed to see this man again. Soon. But first, he needed to know…

“Can I ask you a personal question, angel?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks were still a little pink, but he nodded. “Of course.”

“It may seem a little forward.”

“O - okay…”

“Are you married? Or seeing anyone?”

“I, um, no. I’ve never been married, and I’ve just recently ended a relationship.”

 _Thank fuck,_ Crowley thought, smiling in relief. 

He leaned across the table a little, eager. “I’d really like to see you again. Would you be willing?”

Aziraphale looked surprised, caught out, but before he could answer, Anathema appeared in the worst case of bad timing _ever._

“Good evening, gentlemen. How was your meal?”

Crowley glared daggers at her, willing her to _go away_. “It was lovely. We were just…”

“Aziraphale, I came to tell you that the limo that will be taking you home is here.”

“Oh. Oh, well, thank you. Can I call the waiter quickly so I can pay my part of the bill?”

Anathema looked confused. “Your part of the bill? What do you --”

Crowley spoke over her, smiling at Aziraphale. “Why don’t you let me pick it up this time, angel, and I’ll let you cover next time. Alright?”

Aziraphale flushed a little but gave a small smile. “Alright.”

Crowley just gazed at him, getting lost in the blue eyes until Anathema unhelpfully interrupted again. 

“Alright then, since that’s settled… Aziraphale? Did you have any last requests? Would you like to pose for a photo or something? Maybe an autograph?”

“Oh, no. No, that’s very kind of you, but no.”

“Alright, then,” she said brightly, ushering Aziraphale from his seat. Crowley had never wanted to fire her before that moment. 

He got to his feet and offered his hand. “Aziraphale, it has been my very great pleasure. I hope to do it again sometime.”

When Aziraphale took his hand to shake it, Crowley brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the knuckles, his eyes never leaving Aziraphale’s face. The other man flushed brilliantly, and once again, Crowley hoped that was a good thing. 

“Ooookay,” Anathema said. “Aziraphale, if you’ll just come with me. Crowley, I’ll be right back.” 

Crowley watched appreciatively as she led Aziraphale to the door, and was smiling when Aziraphale turned to look over his shoulder at him. Crowley gave a wave, and Aziraphale blushed again before he was ushered out of the door. 

Once he was gone, Crowley collapsed back into his chair, heaving a happy sigh, wondering how long he needed to wait before he sought out Aziraphale Fell again. He didn’t think he’d be able to wait long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footer art by NaroMoreau!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy _shit_ , you guys. Two hundred kudos, 127 comments and 175 subscriptions? _Holy shit._ I'm in awe ~~and more than a little terrified that I just got lucky with a good opener and you won't like the rest of the story and now I'm in a panic and GAAAAAH~~. 
> 
> THANK YOU!!

_Wednesday, 14 April, 2021_

Two days later, Aziraphale was in his shop, on a ladder, shelving books. It was busy work, but he enjoyed it very much, and as he worked, he hummed idly - and thought back to his ‘date’ with Crowley. 

He’d entered the contest on a whim, not really giving it much thought. In fact, he’d entirely forgotten about the whole thing when he’d been contacted two weeks ago to inform him that he’d won. He hadn’t bothered to tell anyone he’d won except his employees, Newt and Tracy, and he hadn’t told _them_ about the celebrity aspect. In fact, he’d only told them he’d won a date to the Ritz as he was walking out the door Monday evening to meet the limo that was taking him to the restaurant, not leaving time for questions. He wouldn’t have been able to answer their questions, anyway. He hadn’t been able to remember Crowley’s name. 

Aziraphale had been expecting to meet some self-absorbed celebrity, but Crowley had been nothing like that. Aziraphale had actually _liked_ him, which came as a total shock. Crowley was the complete opposite of his usual type, what with his flaming, chin-length hair, dark, tight clothes, and sunglasses. The man even had a tattoo of a snake on his face, for heaven’s sake! Aziraphale had nearly taken one look at him and bolted. But something about the smile Crowley had given him when they met convinced him to stay, and he was so glad that he had. He’d been surprised halfway through the meal to realize that he was _attracted_ to Crowley, and even more surprised when he realized Crowley seemed to be attracted to _him,_ too. He’d had a hunch, but no strong evidence until the end of the meal. His heart had been beating double time when Crowley had asked to see him again, but the manager, Anathema, had interrupted. He’d had fleeting hopes in that moment that maybe Crowley would send her away, but he hadn’t and their ‘date’ had come to an end. Perhaps that was the answer to the question about whether Crowley had been attracted to him or not. Attracted, yes, but not attracted enough to put any real effort in. 

And that was fine. Really, it was. He’d had a wonderful evening, scratched an item off his bucket list, and left the restaurant with happy memories and a story to tell at parties. 

But he hadn’t been able to get Crowley out of his mind ever since. All he could think about was the red haired rock star. 

The next day, yesterday, he’d told Newt and Tracy everything, including who the date had been with. Their reaction of shock and disbelief had reinforced the idea that Crowley really was a huge celebrity, and he was glad he hadn’t told them before the date. After he convinced them he was telling the truth, they’d both been fascinated and asked for every detail, which Aziraphale had given. They had both confirmed that it sounded as if Crowley _had_ been attracted to him, and both of them spent the rest of the day answering the phone a little more eagerly, convinced Crowley would call. Aziraphale had just smiled and indulged them. He didn’t expect Crowley would call - in fact, he doubted he’d ever hear from Crowley again - but it was a nice daydream, and it entertained Newt and Tracy, so he didn’t see the harm. Their excitement was fun to watch. 

“Hello there, boss.”

Aziraphale looked down from the ladder to find Newt there. “Oh, hello, Newt. Just getting back?”

“Yes, and thank you for letting me go. My tooth was really bothering me.”

“Not at all, not at all. Dental health is important,” he said, descending the ladder. “Did you see Tracy? Is she here yet?”

“She was clocking in just a minute ago. Said she’d be out soon.”

“Jolly good. I’ll just wait until she gets here, then we can discuss plans for the day, shall we?”

Aziraphale and Newt made their way to the counter at the front of the store, and Newt was called over by a customer. Aziraphale spent the time waiting for him to be done and Tracy to come out tidying up the counter and ringing out a customer. Just as the customer was leaving, Tracy joined him, tying her apron over her usual, flowing garments. She was quirky, but he’d come to love her dearly over the last six years she’d been in his employ. He had grown to love Newt, as well, over the last three years he’d worked for him. Once he’d gotten past Newt’s rather rotten luck with electronics, that was. The poor boy was a bit hopeless with machinery, but that was alright. He was good with customers and very organized. As long as he could ring up sales, that was all Aziraphale needed him to do. 

“Good afternoon, Tracy,” he said politely. 

“Good afternoon, boss. Did you get a phone call last night?”

Aziraphale fought the urge to sigh. “Not from anyone you’d find interesting.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll happen,” she said, patting his arm as if he needed comforting.

“Well, it would be nice if it did, but I have to admit to being doubtful.”

“That’s alright. I’ll have enough faith for both of us.”

“Faith in what?” Newt asked, joining them. 

“That Crowley is going to call him,” Tracy supplied. 

“Oh, yeah. He’s going to.”

“Now, really, dear. How would _you_ know? Either of you? Neither of you were _there_ ,” he huffed. 

“I did a reading last night for you that was definitive. The cards were very clear that he’s going to call you soon.”

Aziraphale had learned long ago not to argue with Tracy about her occult beliefs, but he was very much tempted to right now. 

“He called you angel and kissed your hand,” Newt said. “And he _asked_ to see you again.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and shook his head, taking a deep breath and praying for patience. They both meant well, he knew. 

“I hate to rain on your parades, but the realistic chances of him calling are slim to none. It would be lovely if he _did_ , but I truly don’t believe he will.”

“Well that’s not what the cards say,” Tracy said almost petulantly.

Aziraphale went on. “He and I lead very different lives. If he _had_ been seriously interested, he likely wouldn’t have let me go until we made plans to see each other again. He didn’t do that. It’s been nearly two full days, and nothing. Crowley didn’t seem the type to be patient when he wants something. Therefore, I’m forced to conclude that he _doesn’t_ want to see me again. And that’s okay!” he rushed to say, lying a bit, talking over both of them when they tried to interrupt. “Really, it’s okay. I had a lovely time and don’t need anymore, truly. Now I have an interesting story to tell at parties.”

Tracy scoffed. “Not like you go to parties.”

He pursed his lips at her. “You know what I mean.”

“Do you _want_ him to call?”

Behind them, the bells over the door jingled, announcing a new customer. Aziraphale didn’t turn around. He felt compelled to finish his thought first. 

“I think it would be lovely if he did, truly lovely, but I’m not going to be devastated when he doesn’t,“ he said, minimizing his true feelings.

“What if Crowley just showed up?” Tracy asked, one corner of her mouth quirked, looking over his shoulder. 

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, either.”

“Oh, you never know. I’m a bit like a bad penny. I turn up all sorts of places.”

Aziraphale whirled around, his eyes wide, to find Crowley standing in the middle of his shop. He was giving a lopsided grin, one hip cocked, fingers in his pockets, dressed as he had been the other night in dark, tight clothes. Aziraphale’s heart fluttered madly, and he couldn’t help a small smile of disbelief. 

“Crowley,” he breathed, all he felt capable of. 

“Hiya, angel.”

Aziraphale’s thoughts were so loud, he could hardly make sense of them. He just stared at Crowley, wide-eyed, unable to believe he was _there._ And oh, he was so incredibly beautiful. How was he even more beautiful today than he had been two days ago? Aziraphale’s chest clenched with _want_.

“Hi,” said Tracy, reaching out with a huge smile on her face. “I’m Tracy, Aziraphale’s assistant manager. We’ve heard all about you.”

“Only good things, I hope?” Crowley said with a smile, shaking her hand. 

“Very lovely things. He’s quite taken with you.”

“Tracy!” Aziraphale snapped, his cheeks flaming. 

Crowley’s smile only grew. “That’s good to hear. It’s very nice to meet you, Tracy.” Then he turned to Newt. “Hi. I’m Crowley.”

“Newton Pulsifer,” Newt said, looking terrified, but offering his hand. “Er, Newt. I’m - I’m a big fan.”

Crowley shook his hand with a warm, kind smile. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.” Then he turned back to Aziraphale, still grinning. “Are you alright, angel?”

Aziraphale realized he’d been staring, but couldn’t help himself. “I, yes. I’m fine. I just never expected to see you again. What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see if I could tempt you into a second date. Steal you away for a few minutes. If you’re swamped with work, though, I’ll be happy to come back when you close the shop and take you to dinner.”

“He’s not busy, you can steal him away right now,” Tracy said. 

“Tracy!”

“What? You’re not.”

“If that’s true,” Crowley said, still smiling, “If you _are_ available, I suppose the next question should be whether you’d be _willing_ to let me steal you away for a bit.”

“I… yes,” Aziraphale said after only a second of thought. “I think I’d like that.” 

Crowley’s face lit up even brighter. “Excellent. Shall we go?”

“Yes, let’s.”

“Newt, Tracy, it was lovely to meet both of you. I promise to return him to you in one piece in a little while.”

“Take your time,” Tracy said, beaming. “We’ll be here.”

Aziraphale turned and gave his employees a wide-eyed look, then turned back to Crowley. “After you, dear.”

“They seem nice,” Crowley said as they exited onto the pavement.

“They are, both very nice,” Aziraphale replied, feeling nervous. 

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets again - which seemed like a minor miracle, considering how tight they were. Aziraphale couldn’t help but look appreciatively before glancing away. 

“So, where to?”

“I, um, I don’t quite know.”

He looked at his watch. “It’s half two. Would you be interested in a late lunch, or have you eaten?”

“I ate about an hour ago,” Aziraphale said. “But perhaps we could get a coffee? The coffee shop I frequent is just a little way down the road, if you’d like?”

Crowley smiled expansively and Aziraphale’s heart sped up. Goodness, he was so _attractive._

“I’m following you, angel.”

“Alright. This way,” he said, and started walking towards the coffee shop. Crowley fell into step beside him. 

“So, how are you?” Crowley said, smiling over at Aziraphale. 

“I’m well, thank you. I hope you are?” he replied automatically, his nerves taking over. 

“Oh, I’m much better now that I get to see you again,” Crowley said with a flirty grin, and Aziraphale’s heart pounded. 

“I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you.”

“So you mentioned. Why would you be? I told you I wanted to see you again. Anathema just interrupted before I could get you to agree. Out of curiosity, what would your answer have been?”

“What, when you asked to see me again?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you were serious…”

“I was. Very serious,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale flushed a little. “Yes, it seems so. Well, had I known you were serious, I’d have said yes.”

Crowley smiled brilliantly. “You would have?”

“Yes, I would have,” Aziraphale said, flushing more.

“Fantastic. That’s fan-fucking-tastic,” Crowley said, beaming. 

Aziraphale was at a loss for what to say, and it seemed Crowley was, too. They walked a few yards in silence. 

"I feel the need to amend my earlier statement,” Aziraphale said after a minute. 

“Oh?”

“Yes. You showing up _is_ a surprise, but it’s a very pleasant one.” _Understatement_. Aziraphale wasn’t sure he’d ever been so pleased in his life. 

Crowley grinned at him. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.”

“How did you find me?” Aziraphale asked as they crossed the street. Crowley was holding up his hand idly to stop oncoming traffic. 

“I googled you. It wasn’t hard. Aziraphale Fell is an unusual name.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose it is. I don’t think I’ve ever been googled before.”

“Did you enjoy your time at the Ritz?” Crowley asked. “Was it all you’d hoped it would be, onions aside?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, it was lovely. The whole experience was wonderful.”

“Including the company?” Crowley asked in what sounded like a hopeful tone.

“Including the company,” Aziraphale agreed, smiling. 

Crowley looked chuffed. “Great. We’ll have to do it again, provided you’re willing to see me.”

“I guess we’ll have to see how I feel after coffee,” Aziraphale flirted, amazed by his own boldness. 

Crowley just grinned and stepped forward to open the door to the coffee shop. ”I’m hoping to make the best possible impression,” he said as they entered. “How am I doing so far?”

“Oh, very well, so far.”

“Good. I’ll keep up the good work, then.”

Aziraphale fought the urge to giggle. 

They were standing in the short line, looking up at the chalkboard that listed the shop’s offerings. “I don’t know why I’m reading the board,” Aziraphale said. “I nearly always get the same thing.”

“I don’t know why I’m looking at it, either. I only drink my coffee black.” He turned to Aziraphale. “What do you get?”

“It’s called the cloud.”

One ginger eyebrow appeared from behind the glasses. “The cloud? That’s very apt for an angel.”

Aziraphale flushed and Crowley smiled brighter. 

“What’s in it?”

“It’s a vanilla bean coffee with three extra scoops of vanilla bean, one pump of mocha, one pump of peppermint, with half milk and half double cream. Extra whipped cream on top and a mocha drizzle.”

Both eyebrows were now raised behind the glasses. “That sounds… decadent.”

“It’s a calorie bomb,” Aziraphale laughed. “That's why I only have one every few weeks or so. The rest of the time, I just make coffee in the Tassimo at the shop.”

“Yes, I love my chemex,” Crowley said. “But I’m still boring and drink it black. Even at home.”

“That’s not boring. It’s good that you know what you like.”

Crowley gave him a _look_ at that, and Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. Goodness. Before he could say anything else, it was their turn to order. When the barista gave them a total, Aziraphale whipped out his wallet before Crowley had a chance to pay. 

“You don’t have to do that, angel.”

“Nonsense. It would take a hundred coffee dates before I could pay you back for dinner at the Ritz, of all places.”

“You don’t _have_ to pay me back.”

“I know. Just let me treat you, would you? You said I could pay this time...”

Crowley sighed, making a show of being very put out. Aziraphale knew he was being playful and it warmed him. “Fine,” he said. “But next time is my turn.”

“Hey,” the barista said, peering at Crowley. “Aren’t you…?”

“Nope,” Crowley said quickly, with a smile. “But I get that a lot.”

Aziraphale watched him carefully, but didn’t say anything. They took the drinks and found a nearby table. As soon as they sat down, in a low voice, Crowley said, “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t want her to know who I was. She might have made a scene, and I’d prefer that not happen on our date.”

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit surprised, is all.”

Crowley sighed. “I love my fans. I do. I adore them. But sometimes, I just want to be a _normal_ bloke. You know? I don’t always want the attention. That’s why I cover my tattoo sometimes. And wear the glasses.”

Aziraphale looked and sure enough, the snake tattoo he’d seen the other night was gone, covered in makeup. 

“Although, to be fair,” Crowley was saying, “It seems I wear the glasses more often than not.”

“I was going to ask you about them,” Aziraphale said. 

“The shades?”

“Yes.”

“I have a mild sensitivity to light, or photophobia. The bright lights of a stage give me headaches, but the glasses help. Eventually, it just sort of became my _thing_.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Aziraphale said, taking a sip of his drink. 

Crowley smiled at him. “Is it as sweet as it looks?”

Aziraphale gave him a grin in return. “It’s sweeter. Would you like a taste?”

“I’d best not. Don’t want to rot my teeth.”

“Oh, haha,” Aziraphale said, teasingly. “How’s your coffee?”

Crowley swallowed his sip and said, “It’s good. Black as my soul, just like I like it.”

Aziraphale giggled, and Crowley smirked. Oh, heavens, that smirk was _devastating_. Aziraphale wanted to see it over and over. 

“So where are you from?” Aziraphale asked, shaking himself from his smitten thoughts. “Were you born in London?”

“I was, forty-one years ago last month. You?”

“Yes, I was also born in London. Forty-two years ago this past December.”

“So I missed your birthday? Damn.”

Aziraphale grinned. “How long have you been a musician?”

“All my life, really. I started playing guitar when I was six, and writing my own songs when I was about eight. I started a band in secondary school, and we stuck together until university. I formed a new band, then, and that’s how I got my start.”

“Did you finish university?”

“I did. Bachelors in botany.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Botany?”

“You sound surprised,” Crowley remarked, droll. 

“I am, a bit. I never would have expected a rock star to be interested in plants.”

“I’m multifaceted,” Crowley said. 

“Clearly so,” Aziraphale replied, taking another sip of his drink. “The band you had in uni, are you still together?”

Crowley gave him a wide smile. “You truly don’t know the first thing about me, do you?”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat and he looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Crowley said, and something about his tone made Aziraphale look up at him. “I think it’s fucking _amazing_ that you don’t know anything about me. Absolutely wonderful.”

“You do?” Aziraphale asked, puzzled. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s fucking _great_.”

“I’m not sure I understand…”

Crowley looked to be in thought for a minute, then he gave a short nod and shifted in his seat. 

“Can I be honest with you, angel?”

“Yes, of course.”

He paused for a second, his cheeks a little rosy, then said, “I’m very attracted to you.”

Aziraphale had figured that, but hearing it put so bluntly still caught him off guard - and delighted him. He gave a little ‘oh’ of surprise. 

Crowley grinned, looking nervous. “Yeah. I hope that’s alright.”

“Yes, of course, that’s fine. I’m - I’m very attracted to you, too,” he admitted. 

Crowley's face burst into a huge smile. “Great. That’s fucking fantastic.”

“But I don’t see how that relates to me not knowing anything about you being a good thing.”

“Because it means that if you date me - which is what I want - you’ll get to know _me_. The real me. Anthony Crowley. You’re not coming into this with any preconceived notions about me. All you know is what I show you and tell you, and I like that.” 

“You do?”

“Yes. God, yes. I’m _thrilled_ by it. In fact, I’d like to ask a favor of you.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Don’t google me. Please.” 

Aziraphale’s brows knitted a bit. “Isn’t googling a potential romantic partner sort of standard these days? The normal thing to do?”

“Yes, it is. But I’m not normal. The tabloids have been writing about me for the last fifteen or twenty years now, and they haven’t always been honest. In fact, they’ve rarely been. I don’t want you to read lies and have your opinion of me change. I just… I just really want this chance for you to know the _real_ me. Not what the trashy red tops have to say. Would you consider it?”

Well, when he put it like that, how could Aziraphale possibly say no? Oh, but the temptation would be extreme…

“It’s not forever,” Crowley said in a bit of a rush. “Just… give me a couple of months to show you who I _really_ am. A few weeks. I’d like for you to decide whether or not you like me based on my merit, not gossip.” 

“Well, I suppose that seems perfectly reasonable,” Aziraphale conceded. 

Crowley’s face brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ll refrain from googling you. Would you also like me to stay away from wikipedia? I admit to being dreadfully curious.”

He looked thoughtful for a second, then said, “Nah. Wikipedia is fine. That’s ninety-nine percent accurate.” 

“Do you still want me to avoid your music?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like it, and I worry you’ll not like _me_ as a result,” Crowley admitted. 

Aziraphale couldn’t imagine _not_ liking Crowley. “I don’t think that will be an issue, but if you’d rather I not, I won’t. I promise I’ll limit myself to your wikipedia.”

“Thank you, angel. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure. But I feel I should address something…”

“What’s that?” Crowley asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I’m attracted to you, and you say you’re attracted to me, too --”

“I am. Very much,” Crowley said eagerly. 

Aziraphale smiled. “I’m so very happy to hear that. But I think it's only fair to warn you that I’m only recently single, and still stinging a bit from the end of my relationship.”

Crowley’s brow knitted. “How recent?”

“We split up two months ago, and had been together for three years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Crowley said, then amended. “I mean, I’m not sorry you’re single, never that. I’m _thrilled_ you’re single. But I’m sorry that you’re stinging. Going through a breakup is painful.”

“It is. It had been coming for a long time, but ending a relationship is never pleasant.”

“No, it’s not,” Crowley agreed. 

“I said all that to say that I’m not quite ready to fully jump into a relationship yet. I really do like you, Crowley, and I’d like to get to know you better. But I would hate very much for you to be the proverbial rebound relationship. That wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’s not what I want from you.”

“Does that… does that mean you’re _never_ willing to date me?” Crowley asked, sounding vulnerable.

Aziraphale smiled gently. “No, not that at all. I’d very much like to date you. I’m just going to want to wade in very slowly. I’d like for us to start as mostly friends. Friends with an understanding that we’re probably headed for more.”

Crowley looked pensive for a moment, then gave a small smile. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. You let me date you, take you out once a week or so, so we can get to know each other better. In return, I promise to keep my hands to myself for as long as you want. Months. _Years_ , if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll be that long,” Aziraphale said. At this moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold out a week. 

“Point is, you set the pace. I’ll follow your lead. If I’m moving too fast for you, all you have to do is say so, and I’ll back off. All I ask is that you let me date you so you can get to know the real me.”

“I think that sounds like a fine deal,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “I’d very much like to date you.”

Crowley beamed. “Excellent. That’s the best news I’ve gotten in a fucking age. So when can I see you again?”

“Well, when are you free?”

“I currently have a lot of free time on my hands. I just wrapped up a tour a month ago, and I’m taking a bit of a break. So I’m at your disposal.”

“Let’s see. Today is Wednesday. The shop is closed on Sundays… Why don’t we make plans to see each other Sunday afternoon or evening?”

“Sunday sounds great. Can I text you in the meantime? Or call you?”

Aziraphale flushed a little. “If you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Then you can call or text anytime you like. If I’m not working, I’ll answer.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said with a bright smile. “That’s just perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Friday, 16 April_

Crowley was sitting in his flat in Mayfair, playing his guitar absently, letting his mind wander. As it so often did since their date at the Ritz a few days ago, it wandered straight to Aziraphale and he smiled. 

In a million years, if you’d asked him to name his ‘type’, Crowley never would have said ‘a soft spoken bookseller from Soho that dresses in vintage clothes’. In fact, Crowley would have laughed outright if someone had suggested it. But almost from the moment he had laid eyes on Aziraphale, he’d been smitten. He’d thought perhaps his attraction had been some sort of mistake and that when he’d seen him again, it would have been diminished, but that wasn’t the case. He’d been even _more_ attracted when he’d gone to the shop yesterday. Aziraphale had been wearing light colored, old-fashioned clothes again, but had foregone the coat and tie, leaving himself in shirtsleeves and a waistcoat. Crowley had nearly salivated when he saw him. 

He’d devoted a bit of time over the last few days trying to figure out _why_ he was so attracted to Aziraphale. What was it about him that was so appealing? Was it the fact that he _was_ so different? Was it because he was a blank slate? Crowley suspected those things were large parts of it, but not the entire reason. Everything he’d learned about Aziraphale so far had delighted him. Every single thing. His fussy mannerisms, his formal dress, the way he flushed sometimes when they talked, how witty he was, everything. The only thing that _didn’t_ delight Crowley fully was the fact that Aziraphale was just coming out of a relationship and wanted to take his time. Crowley had been a rock star for the last two decades and was well used to getting everything he wanted right when he wanted it. Having to wait for Aziraphale was frustrating, but he could deal with it. He did _not_ want to be a rebound fling. He wanted to be so much more. And he was willing to do whatever it took to get that - even if that meant he had to be patient and wait. 

They’d talked by text a few times since the coffee date the day before yesterday, and Crowley had so far resisted the temptation to call. He really was trying to take things as slow as possible, for Aziraphale’s sake. Crowley had a tendency to dive headlong into relationships (and into everything, really), and often ended up breaking his neck in the process. Wading in slowly wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, Aziraphale was radically different from everyone he’d ever dated in the past, so it stood to reason that Crowley should treat him differently. He wanted _everything_ about this relationship to be different. So he could wait. He could take his time. The reward - getting to be with Aziraphale - would be worth it. He knew it would. He couldn’t stay _how_ he knew, he just knew with a bone-deep certainty that it would be worth it. 

His phone went off beside him and Crowley glanced at it, hoping it was Aziraphale, disappointed when he saw it was Anathema. He still hadn’t forgiven her for interrupting them at the Ritz a few nights ago. 

Crowley grabbed the phone, swiped it to answer the call, and said, “What do you want?” by way of greeting. 

“Nice to talk to you, too, sunshine,” Anathema said, unperturbed. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just fucking around at the moment. Playing my guitar,” he said, putting it to the side, figuring his time to relax was over for now. 

“Writing?”

Crowley glanced over to the notepad where he’d scribbled fragments of lyrics - nearly all about Aziraphale. “Not really,” he said, hoping she’d drop it. “Just enjoying a peaceful evening. But I have a feeling you’re about to wreck that.”

“I was calling to tell you about an offer we’ve gotten.”

“An offer for what?”

“To drum up some publicity.”

“If this is another one of those fake dating opportunities where I go on very public dates with some starlet, the answer is a resounding fucking ‘no.’”

“Crowley…”

“No. I mean it. I hate doing those things anyway, but now I have double the reason to say no: I’m seeing someone.”

She was silent on the line for a moment, then said, “You’re _what_?”

“I’m seeing someone,” he repeated, bracing himself for whatever Anathema’s reaction would be. 

She laughed in his ear. “Come off it, Crowley. You aren’t seeing anyone.”

“I am, too. As of two days ago.”

“And _who_ , pray tell, are you seeing?”

“Aziraphale Fell.”

“Azira - the _contest winner_?!”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Are you _serious_?”

“I’m completely serious.”

“But Crowley…”

“What?”

“He’s… he’s _not_ your type.”

“Oh, I disagree. I think he’s _exactly_ my type. I just didn't know that until I met him.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t _do_ that!”

Crowley bristled. “I fucking _can_ and I _am_.”

“Crowley...”

“What? What do you have against Aziraphale?”

“I don’t have anything against him. He seems like a very nice man. But you _know_ what the press is like. They’ll eat him alive. At the very least, they’ll scare him off.”

Crowley felt like an idiot. He’d been so wrapped up in seeing Aziraphale again, and then plotting a romance, he hadn’t given much thought to the _practical_ aspects of dating him. How could he have been so stupid?

“Interest in me is low right now because I just finished the tour,” he pointed out.

“That won’t last.”

Crowley grit his teeth and went on. “The media seems to be letting me live in peace for the time being. And we’re going to keep a low profile.”

“Keeping a low profile will only work for so long, and you know it. Sooner or later, they’ll find out, and then it’s going to be a _big_ story. You dating a man? That’s going to hit like a bomb.”

“It’s widely known that I’m bisexual,” Crowley snapped, irritated. 

“Yes, it’s public knowledge that you’re bi. You’ve always been very open about it. But all your relationships that the press has known about - all of them - have been with women. The fact that you’re now dating a man will generate _tons_ of interest. And when you take into consideration you’re dating a man like _Aziraphale_...”

“Just what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?” Crowley demanded angrily. 

“Only that he’s your polar opposite. You sell out arenas and make platinum records and he’s this unassuming guy that runs a bookshop.”

“That’s part of what makes him so attractive,” Crowley said. “Do you know that he had _no idea_ who the fuck I was when he met me?”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not. He didn’t know me from Adam. Do you have any idea how _rare_ that is? But beyond that, I just… I _like_ him. He’s nice. He’s funny. He’s charming. He’s fucking _gorgeous_. Truth be told, I’m already mad about him, and I’ve only known him for five days.”

Anathema sighed. “You’re going to do this no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

“Damned right I am. And I’d appreciate your fucking support.”

She sighed again. “Alright. I’ll give you my support - I’ll do everything in my power to help you - but you’ve got to do something for me, first.”

“What’s that?”

“Talk to him. He needs to be warned what it’s going to be like when the press inevitably descends, and you owe him the chance to say no to that.”

“Fuck. Do I have to?”

“Yes. He deserves to know.”

Crowley scrubbed his face with his free hand. “You’re right. I do owe him that. Shit. He and I are going out Sunday. I’ll talk to him then.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“You should also probably tell him about the other pitfalls to dating a successful musician.”

“Like what?”

“Like traveling. Touring. The fact that there are groupies all over the place. And your rabid fans are probably _not_ going to be happy about this. They prefer when you’re single.” 

“Don’t I fucking know it,” Crowley muttered with a huge sigh. “I don’t know how to approach all of this without scaring him off.”

“You very well might scare him off. But he deserves to know, to not go into this blind.”

“Fuck.”

“Crowley…”

He sighed. “No, you’re right. You’re right. I’ll talk to him Sunday.”

“Good. After you do that, I’ll do anything I can to help you. Just say the word.”

“You want to know something you can do?” Crowley asked, thinking of Aziraphale.

“What’s that?”

“Find me more opportunities to work with charities.”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally fucking serious.”

“Is this because of your new boyfriend?”

Crowley tried to fight the thrill he felt hearing the word ‘boyfriend’.

“Maybe in part. But it’s something I should be doing anyway.”

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks, Anathema.” 

“No problem.”

“Well, if that’s all the rain you have for my parade…”

“I think that’s enough for now,” Anathema said, sounding faintly amused. 

“Fantastic. I’m going to ring off and sulk now.”

“You do that. I’ll be in touch.”

Crowley hung up the phone, tossed it to the side, then scrubbed his face again and sighed. He might have known things with Aziraphale were too good to be true. Now he had to go and ruin them, before they’d even gotten started. 

But maybe they wouldn’t be ruined. Maybe he could come up with a way to be honest but not terrifying. And maybe, just maybe, he could convince Aziraphale to stay with him and give it a try. 

It was Friday evening, and he had until Sunday to come up with what to say. With a sigh, he picked up his guitar and started playing, letting his mind wander again, hoping to come up with something brilliant.

~*~O~*~

_Sunday, 18 April_

Aziraphale was nervous as he rode in the back of a cab towards the restaurant he was meeting Crowley at on Sunday afternoon. Well, perhaps ‘nervous’ wasn’t entirely the right word. He was also brilliantly, incandescently _excited_ to see Crowley again - and to have another date. It was only their third date, but Aziraphale hoped with his whole heart that there would be many, many more dates in the future. 

They were meeting for a late lunch at a bistro, then going to the British Museum. As a result, they’d be in each other’s company for several hours, the longest amount of time they’d spent together so far. Aziraphale was _thrilled_ by the prospect. He wanted to spend all the time he could with Crowley. Well, all the time he dared, so fresh from a breakup. Secretly, he hoped that they would be at the museum long enough that it would be reasonable to get dinner together after, and he’d get to spend _more_ time with Crowley. The more time spent with Crowley, the better. 

Newt and Tracy had been beside themselves when Aziraphale had come back and told them that he was now dating Crowley, officially. He’d been so delighted, himself, that he hadn’t minded their gloating, and he’d spent the rest of the day - and the week, really - floating on a cloud, blissfully happy and his head full of romantic daydreams of being with Crowley. 

True to his word, Crowley had started texting him shortly after the coffee date, and they’d been texting each other frequently ever since. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat every single time his mobile went off and displayed a message from Crowley, and every single message, no matter how mundane, made him smile. Their conversations were light, nothing of any real consequence, but, strangely, Aziraphale felt like he knew Crowley a bit better after texting with him for the last few days. It felt nice. He wanted more.

His instinct was to throw himself headlong into Crowley, to jump into a serious relationship and not look back, but he knew that wasn’t wise for several reasons. More than anything, he was skittish of getting his heart involved with someone else before he was sure he was _completely_ over Gabriel. He thought he was, over Gabriel that is, but it wouldn't do to be mistaken about something like that. (He didn’t allow himself to think on the fact that it seemed he’d _already_ gotten his heart involved with Crowley, at least a little.) But even if it _weren’t_ for that, he should take this time to make sure that Crowley was who Aziraphale thought - hoped - he was. It would be dreadful for him to fall in love and find out later that Crowley wasn’t as nice as he appeared to be. He didn’t think that would happen, his instincts about people were usually very good and he saw no red flags in Crowley, but still. He’d been wrong once before. Caution couldn’t hurt.

The car pulled up to the curb outside the restaurant, and Aziraphale swallowed his nerves and excitement. The place looked somewhat posh, and he’d left off his bowtie and coat, hoping to appear casual and cool. He just hoped he hadn’t done the wrong thing. 

Aziraphale paid the driver quickly, thanked him, then got out of the car. He looked up at the restaurant with some trepidation, but he didn’t get long to be nervous before Crowley appeared out of nowhere, smiling brightly. 

“Hiya, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled in return, thrilled to bits to see him, utterly besotted. “Hello, dear.”

“You look gorgeous.”

He flushed. “Thank you. So do you.”

“Thank you.” Crowley bowed a little, still smiling, and extended a hand towards the door of the restaurant. “Shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Crowley opened the door for him and they entered the lobby of the restaurant. Within a couple of minutes, they were seated at a table, looking at the menus. Crowley ordered a bottle of white wine, and they chatted lightly about the week while they decided on their meals. When the waiter came back with the wine, they ordered and handed the menus over. 

When he was gone, Crowley turned to Aziraphale with a smile that made his heart pitter-pat. “Bloody hell, angel, I don’t see how you do it.”

“How I do what?”

“How you’re more beautiful every time I see you.”

Aziraphale flushed with pleasure. Oh, his heart was in trouble. “Thank you.”

“Just telling the truth,” Crowley said with a smirk, taking a sip of his wine. “Say, do you mind if I take off the glasses? It makes me stick out slightly less if I take them off.”

“Of course, dear. You don’t need to ask me. In truth, I’ve been very curious about your eyes.”

“Well, let me show you,” Crowley said, smiling, removing his glasses, folding them, and putting them in his pocket. When he looked back up, Aziraphale’s breath caught. Crowley’s eyes were the lightest possible brown, almost golden, and Aziraphale had never seen something so beautiful in his life. 

“You’re gorgeous, dear,” he blurted without thinking.

Crowley gave him a lopsided grin. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Yes, I think so. And your eyes are stunning.”

The red haired man smiled at him. “Thanks, angel.”

Aziraphale flushed again and took another sip of his wine. 

“So did you get a chance to look at my wikipedia page, to satisfy your curiosity?” 

“I did,” he nodded. 

Crowley was sounding anxious. “And? What did you think?”

“Well, it was very impressive. It seems you’re a much bigger celebrity than I’d thought you were.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, not necessarily. Just a bit daunting.”

“Do you still want to date me?”

Aziraphale gave him a gentle smile and decided to be completely honest. “I can’t think of anything I want more, dear.”

Crowley smiled, then his mood seemed to change. He was quiet a moment, shifting in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “Look, I need to talk to you about something.”

Aziraphale’s heart thudded nervously in his chest. “Al -alright…”

“I’m terrified to do this, because I'm afraid it will scare you away from me, but Anathema is right. You have a right to know.”

“You’re making me nervous, Crowley.”

“No, no. Don’t be. Fuck, I’m nervous enough for the both of us.”

“Please don’t keep me on tenterhooks, dear,” Aziraphale asked, his heart in his throat. 

“Alright. Alright. I just… let me preface this by saying that this is going to sound terrifying, but it’s not that bad. It’s more of a giant pain in the arse that rears its head occasionally, but you get used to it.”

Aziraphale was afraid he was going to jump out of his skin. “ _What’s_ not that bad?”

“The life of a celebrity. _Dating_ a celebrity. I really want to date you, Aziraphale. I really, really want to. I know it’s very soon, but I already know that I want a _relationship_ with you.”

He smiled gently, a little relieved. “I’d like to have a relationship with you, too.”

“But I don’t want you to go into this blind, with no idea what it’ll be like.”

Aziraphale relaxed a bit. “Yes, I admit, I’ve given a fair amount of thought to what it must be like to date a celebrity.”

Crowley blinked. “You have?”

“I have. I spent a good while talking with Tracy about it yesterday, in fact. We both had ideas, but no real knowledge, so it was all speculation. Would you mind telling me about the reality?”

His date looked stunned. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, good. I’m quite curious what I’m getting myself into.”

“You make it sound as if you’re going to continue to date me.”

“Well, I had _planned_ on it. Honestly, the reality can’t be worse than the worst case scenarios that Tracy and I were coming up with.”

Crowley just stared at him. “You really are an angel, aren’t you? Living in disguise as a human.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I’m really not. I’m just very interested in you and not likely to be easily dissuaded. So go on. Tell me what it’s like.”

“Right. Well, I suppose the biggest thing is the media.” 

“Yes, that’s what I had imagined. Are they terrible?”

“They can be, at times. Interest in me waxes and wanes, and it’s low right now because the tour is over and I’m not promoting an album. But it will pick up again. And Anathema is right, it’s probably going to be a big story when it comes out that I’m dating a man, since I haven’t publicly done so before.”

“I’d noticed that all the people you were linked to in past relationships were women and I’d wondered about that. I’d been trying to come up with a tactful way to ask you.”

“I’ve dated a handful of men, but they were all closeted celebrities, so the relationships were kept very quiet.”

“I’d imagine so. That must be a terrible way to live, unable to be who you really are.”

“Yeah, it’s not pleasant.”

“But you _are_ interested in men?” Aziraphale asked, a little insecure. 

“Yes. Specifically, I’m interested in you,” Crowley said with a little, shy smile that made Aziraphale’s belly go all wibbly. He flushed, smiling back, and took a sip of his wine. 

“So you say it’ll be a big story. Tell me what that’ll look like. I have an idea, but again, that’s just speculation.”

“For a while, it’ll be like we’re under siege. Paparazzi will follow us around everywhere, trying to take our picture and get a quote. They’ll follow us around individually, too. They’re going to shout rude, offensive things to try to get a rise out of us. The best thing to do is just ignore them, as much as you’re able.” 

“How long will that go on?”

“It’s impossible to tell. It could be a couple of weeks, could be a few months. Then it’ll fade away again. It’ll pick back up when I release a new album. Like I said, it waxes and wanes. But I don’t intend to let them know I’m dating you for a while. I’d like to keep us a secret for as long as I can - not because I’m ashamed of you,” he said in a rush. “I’m absolutely _not_ , in any way. Please know that.”

“That’s comforting to hear,” Aziraphale said, feeling relieved.

“But I’d like us to take a while and build as solid a foundation as we can before the tsunami hits. Provided you’re still willing to date me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, I rather think I am.”

Crowley looked stunned again, his golden eyes wide, and Aziraphale could have gotten lost in them, if he had let himself. Instead he shook himself, picked up his wineglass, and said, “Well, that sounds like a solid plan you have.”

“So you’re _really_ willing to date me anyway?”

“It sounds unpleasant, but not like the end of the world. I’d be willing to give it a try.”

Crowley burst into a huge smile. “You are? Fuck, angel, I don’t even know what to say…”

“There’s nothing _to_ say, really. Just promise me you won’t abandon me to the wolves, so to speak.”

“I won’t. I swear. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Then that’s all I need. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. And who knows? You might be wrong and it might not be that bad. At least, not as bad as I’m anticipating.” 

“Fuck, I hope not. And I’ll do anything I can to keep them away for as long as I can. I promise.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Crowley was opening his mouth to say something else when the waiter appeared with their food, interrupting him. They thanked him, then tucked in. Aziraphale didn’t miss the way Crowley’s eyes widened when he took his first bite and made a little noise. Honestly, he quite liked that reaction.

“Is there anything _else_ I need to know?” 

“There’s lots more, but honestly, I’m so fucking relieved and excited right now, I can hardly think.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I’m glad to have eased your mind a bit. What about touring?”

“Ah, yeah. I go on tour every couple of years, and tours usually last for several months. The good news is that I just got done with one, and I won’t have to go back out for a while. The bad news is that it’ll eventually happen. If you want to, when that time comes, you can come on the road with me. For parts of it, at least. You can come travel with me for a couple weeks or so at a time.”

Aziraphale gave him a gentle smile. “That sounds fun, but it’s a long time in the future. We’re only on our third date,” he said, as much to remind himself as Crowley. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s another bridge we can cross when we get there.”

“I just want us to get there.”

“I do, too,” Aziraphale said sincerely. “Is there anything else I need to be warned about?”

“Yeah, we should probably talk about my fans.”

“What about them?”

“The vast majority of them, ninety-nine percent, are harmless. They’re wonderful people and I adore them.”

“What about that one percent?”

“They’re the nutters. The superfans. And they can get a bit… intense.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“No, I don’t think so. Especially not to you. But some of them don’t like when I’m dating someone, and may make some noise.”

“Well, I’m not very plugged into pop culture, anyway, so it’ll probably fly right by me.”

“I’m going to keep you shielded from it as best I can,” Crowley said. “I’ve got a good security team that’s very protective of me. They’ll be equally protective of you. Chances are, you won’t even know it’s happening.”

“Yes, I imagine ignorance _is_ bliss in that case, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, some dedicated fans I probably won't have to deal with are not a dealbreaker for me. In fact, I haven’t heard _any_ dealbreakers.” 

Crowley gave a relieved smile. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“I’m sure there is, but I honestly can’t think of anything else right now. Is that alright?”

“If it’s not important enough for you to remember it, I’m not overly concerned with it either.” 

“ _Fuck_ , angel…”

“What?”

“Just… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Besides, we have a good while to get to know each other before we have to worry about it, right?”

“I’m going to do my damndest to protect you from it for a long as I can,” Crowley promised. 

“Well, that’s alright, then. We can continue with our original plan - to date each other and slowly ease ourselves into a relationship. Besides, you may grow bored with me before any of this can come to pass.”

“Oh, I _sincerely_ doubt that,” Crowley said. 

“Yes, I rather hope to be wrong about that. I’m very much hoping for us to be together long enough to have to worry about all of this.”

“I’m hoping the same thing. With my whole heart.”

Aziraphale grinned shyly, then speared a bite of his food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind a _bit_ of a slow burn. It's not too long, and it doesn't last all thirty chapters. I promise. And once they get together, that 'healthy relationship' tag comes into play. <3


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was beginning to darken when they exited the British Museum, stepping onto the pavement. The air was a bit chilly and for the first time that day, Aziraphale regretted leaving off his coat. 

“Well that was quite fun,” Aziraphale said, smiling and turning to face Crowley. “Did you enjoy yourself, dear?”

“I had a wonderful time, angel. I was with you. What else could I possibly want?”

Aziraphale flushed happily. “How you do run on,” he said, because he couldn't think of anything else. 

“I mean it. This has been the most enjoyable afternoon I’ve spent in… Fuck. I don’t even know how long.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I feel the same.”

Crowley glanced down at his watch. “It’s only half six. Could I interest you in dinner? I don’t want to ask too much, and I know you have work in the morning…”

“Dinner would be lovely,” Aziraphale said in a rush, overjoyed that he was getting his wish. “But only if you’ll let me pay,” he teased.

Crowley laughed. “If that's the price I need to pay to spend more time with you, I’ll pay it gladly. For now.”

“Excellent,” Aziraphale said, chuffed. “So, where to?”

“There seem to be several restaurants around here. Do you like Italian? Perhaps we could find an Italian place.”

“I do, very much. Shall we just set off in a direction and see what we can find?”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

They started walking down the pavement, and just as he had been in the museum, Aziraphale was very aware of his hands. He wanted to reach out and touch Crowley, but was resisting the impulse. They needed to take things slow - as slow as he could stand it. So he clasped his hands in front of him to ward off temptation. He noticed that Crowley had _his_ hands shoved in his pockets and wondered if that were for a similar reason. He dearly hoped so. 

“Tell me about your family,” Aziraphale said to break the silence. “You’ve mentioned your mother. Is she still living?”

“Yes, she is.”

“And your father?”

“He’s not around. Left the picture when I was a kid.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

“Are you close with your mother?”

“Reasonably so. I see her every couple of weeks when I’m not on tour and we speak by phone every Tuesday and Friday afternoon like clockwork.”

“That sounds lovely. What does she think of having a famous son?”

Crowley grinned. “She has her issues with it, like all mothers would, I suppose. She was terrified I’d fall into the trap of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. The rock-n-roll she doesn’t mind, but she’s skittish of the sex and drugs part. Understandably so.”

Aziraphale kept his eyes on the pavement when he confessed, “I have to admit to being a little skittish of that, as well. Is that, um, is that a big part of your life?”

“Not anymore,” Crowley said. “I went through a phase when I first made it big where I threw myself into the lifestyle for a few years. I was a walking clichè. But it didn’t last long. One of my roadies OD’d and that sobered me up but good - in more ways than one.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that. Not sorry you sobered up, of course, just…”

Crowley gave a small smile. “I know what you meant. He was a good guy. His death really affected me, so I got clean. I don’t go to parties anymore just for fun, but I do go for work. It’s expected of me sometimes. But I very rarely do any more than drink.”

“Very rarely?”

He looked a bit embarrassed. “Occasionally I’ll smoke a little pot. But that’s all, and not very often. Usually, I just drink - but not too much. I hate hangovers.”

“Yes, I do, too. What about, um…”

“What about what?”

“What about the sex part?” Aziraphale asked, his cheeks reddening, wondering if he were overstepping.

“Are you asking about groupies and whatnot?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks flamed even redder. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“I’d be lying if I said I’ve never taken what was being offered to me, and I never want to lie to you. Ever. About anything. So yes, I’ve had encounters with groupies. But that’s not something you have to worry about.”

“It’s not?” Aziraphale said. It certainly _sounded_ like something he should be worried about.

“No. For one thing, loose women - and men - have held less and less appeal for me as I’ve gotten older. My dalliances have gotten less frequent, and I haven’t touched a groupie in a couple of years. But more than that, I’m extremely loyal when I’m in a relationship. My father was a serial cheater and I saw how it nearly broke my mum. I never want to do that to another person.”

Aziraphale just processed that for a moment as they walked. Finally, he said, “I'm sorry your father did that to your mother.”

Crowley gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Not your fault. She was happier without him, anyway.” 

“Still, that must have been very difficult for a young boy. How old were you?”

“I was nine when she finally kicked him out.”

“So very young. I’m sorry. Do you have any contact with him?”

“Not really. He pops up every now and then, claiming to want a relationship - usually when he needs money. I just give it to him and he slinks back off into the shadows.”

“That must be a special kind of pain.”

“Nah, it’s fine. As long as he stays away from my mum, I’m fine with it.”

They walked in silence for a little while, then Crowley asked, “So what about your family? You mentioned your parents were religious scholars?”

“Yes, they were both lecturers at the University of London.”

“Are they still alive?”

“No, I’m afraid not. My father died of cancer when I was in my early twenties. My mother died two years ago of a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, I am, too. I miss them both dreadfully sometimes. Holidays are hard. A bit lonely.”

“I imagine so. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have one sister, Uriel. She’s a solicitor here in London, but she and I are not close. We send Christmas and birthday cards to each other and that’s basically the extent of our contact.”

“I’m sorry you’re not close.”

“Oh, no, don’t be. She’s an unpleasant person.”

“So she’s your complete opposite?” Crowley said with a grin. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “Quite right.”

It was fully dark by the time they got to a restaurant, and Aziraphale was charmed once again when Crowley opened the door and pulled his chair out at the table. With every moment spent in Crowley’s company, Aziraphale fell a little bit deeper, a little bit harder. At this pace, it wouldn’t be long before he was head over heels. Not long at all.

Aziraphale watched admiringly as Crowley ordered his meal. He was so _beautiful_ , just so gorgeous. Aziraphale watched the way his mouth formed words, wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips. He looked at Crowley’s slender neck, wondering what he would smell like, what he would do if Aziraphale nipped the skin over his jugular. And he gazed at Crowley’s long-fingered hands, imagining what it would feel like to hold those fingers between his, to feel them on his skin. He very much couldn't wait to find out. 

Going slow may be the best course of action, and Aziraphale knew it, but he also knew that it was going to be a _complete_ nightmare. Already, he was wondering how long he’d be able to hold out before he followed his instinct and dove into Crowley. 

When Crowley finished ordering, he turned back to Aziraphale with a smile, and blimey. That smile _did_ things to Aziraphale’s insides. Oh, he was a goner already. And it was only their third date!

“So tell me about your shop,” Crowley said, taking a sip of his wine. 

“What about it?”

Crowley shrugged. “I don’t know. Tell me everything. Let’s start with ‘when did you open it’?”

“Eighteen years ago,” Aziraphale said. “I opened it with the money my father left me in his will.”

“Did you always want to open a bookshop?”

“No, not exactly. But I’ve always been a bookworm, and the shop was just a natural extension of that, really.”

“And you collect rare books?”

“I do. I like to buy old, rare books in poor condition and restore them. I _especially_ like the ones in poor condition, actually.”

Crowley eyebrows raised. “So you _restore_ books as well?”

“Yes. It’s a hobby I quite enjoy.”

“Do you sell them for a profit?”

“Sometimes I do, but often I just keep them for myself. Tracy says I hoard my books like a dragon hoards jewels, and she’s not entirely wrong.”

Crowley chuckled. “She seems like a nice lady. Newt, too.”

“She is, very nice. And so is Newt.”

“How long have they worked for you?”

“Tracy has been with me for six years. Newt started with me three years ago. I consider them both to be like family to me. They certainly tease me the way family would.”

“What do they tease you about?”

“Well, for the last week or so, they’ve teased me about _you_. Good naturedly, of course.”

Crowley grinned. “I hope so.”

“Oh, yes. It’s all in good fun. They’re both very happy that you and I are seeing each other. Neither of them particularly liked Gabriel.”

“Is that your ex?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Why didn’t they like him? If you don’t mind me asking. You can also tell me to fuck off, if you’d like.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “No, there’s no need to do that. They just ...didn’t like him. Neither of them really liked anything about him. They particularly didn’t like the way he frequently spoke to me.”

Crowley’s golden eyes flashed. “Did he mistreat you?”

“I wouldn’t say he _mistreated_ me, but he was less than kind. He had a tendency to be condescending and belittling.”

“He sounds like a prick.”

“He could be, yes. But he’s gone now, and good riddance.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. I’m _very_ glad he’s gone, and that you’re with me.”

Aziraphale smiled at him and flushed, ducking his head, not sure what to say. He was thrilled by the idea of being ‘with’ Crowley, but wasn’t sure if he should address it or not. Before he could find his words, the waiter appeared with their meals. They tucked in, and Aziraphale once again didn’t miss Crowley’s wide eyes when he took his first bite and moaned appreciatively. It gave him a wicked thrill to know he was affecting Crowley that way. 

“So what’s your favorite part of being a rock star?” Aziraphale asked a minute later. 

“Christ, I don’t know how to answer that. There are so many things I love about it.”

“Tell me about them,” Aziraphale requested with a smile. 

“I don’t know where to begin, honestly. I love creating music. I love the process of writing and recording, of taking a small seed of an idea and making something out of it - creating something from nothing. I love the feeling of pouring my heart into a song, writing my thoughts and feelings, and then a fan or someone saying, ‘that really spoke to me’. It makes them feel connected to me, but it also makes _me_ feel connected to _them_.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Aziraphale said with a smile. 

“It is. I also love _playing_ music. I love the rush of being on stage and the crowd singing my songs back at me. It’s a feeling I can’t describe.”

“I would imagine so.”

“It really is. I’m so, so lucky to be able to do what I do, and to make money at it. I’m also grateful to be surrounded by the people I have in my work.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I feel much the same. Tell me about the people you work with? Your bandmates and whatnot.”

“Well, let’s see. There’s Beezle on drums. They’ve been playing with me since I was at university and are my oldest friend. Then there’s Ligur on bass, Dagon playing rhythm guitar, and Hastur on keyboards. Everyone sings backup vocals.”

“Are they nice?”

Crowley laughed. “They’re all arseholes, but they’re the nicest bunch of arseholes you’re ever going to meet. You’re going to like them, angel. And they’re going to _love_ you.”

“I look forward to meeting them.”

“Behind the scenes, there’s Shadwell, who is the head of security and my most trusted bodyguard. You’ll meet him at some point. And you already met Anathema, my manager.”

“I did. I was surprised by how young she is.”

“She’s thirty two, so yeah, she’s young. But she’s _very_ talented. I’m lucky to have her.”

“So what does she do? Or manage?”

“She controls my life,” Crowley said with a laugh. 

“Really?”

“Yes and no. She’s the person that makes most of the day to day decisions about my career, so she _does_ control that aspect. But we work together very closely.”

“What did - what did she say about you dating me?” Aziraphale asked, a bit nervous. 

“She was incredulous at first. When I assured her I was serious, she agreed to help me any way she could, but only if I was honest with you about the potential downsides to dating me.”

“She sounds like an honest person.”

“She is. I really love her.”

“Well, thank her for me. I truly appreciate you warning me about all of that.”

“I’m just so thrilled you decided to keep seeing me anyway,” Crowley said, with feeling. 

“Well, I’m not as faint hearted as some might think,” Aziraphale said with a smile. 

“Thank fuck for that.”

Aziraphale grinned at him, then picked up another bite of his risotto.

“So you said you like to support charities,” Crowley said after taking his own bite. 

Aziraphale swallowed. “I do, yes.”

“What types of charities do you favor? Is there a particular cause that’s near and dear to your heart?”

“Oh, I don’t know, really. There are so many good causes out there. I suppose, when I think about it, I tend to gravitate towards charities that support children more than any others. Also the extremely impoverished or homeless.”

“Those are very good causes.”

“What charities do _you_ support? Are there others beside the Great Ormond Street Hospital?”

Crowley looked a bit sheepish and his cheeks were a little red. “I, um, I haven’t done a _ton_ of charitable work, just an odd thing here or there, but I’d like to change that. I’m hoping you might help, actually.”

“Me? How could I help?”

“I dunno. You’re just so _good_. I thought maybe you could help me get some ideas. I thought that maybe… maybe it might be something we could do together.”

Aziraphale felt warm all over and his face split into a brilliant smile. “I think I’d like that very much.”

Crowley beamed at him. “Excellent. That’s fucking fantastic. I already told Anathema to be on the lookout for charitable opportunities. Should I tell her to narrow it down to kids and the homeless?”

“Oh, no, don’t do that. You may run up on another cause you feel strongly about and want to support _that_ instead of the ones I love.”

“Maybe,” Crowley said. “Let’s just see what she digs up.”

“That sounds _wonderful_ , dear,” Aziraphale said with a smile. Oh, he had it so _bad_... his heart really was in danger. 

They chatted about light topics throughout the rest of the meal, and Aziraphale marveled to himself how _comfortable_ he felt with Crowley. He’d rarely felt this at ease with anyone in his entire life, and when he _did_ , it usually took several months, if not years. But with Crowley, they just seemed to click, as the saying went. He couldn’t explain it, but he was very happy about it. He only hoped Crowley felt the same. From what Aziraphale could tell, it seemed he did. 

When the waiter came to offer dessert, they ordered, and Aziraphale was almost sad. He’d had such a _lovely_ time with Crowley over the last few hours, he hated for this time to end. 

“So, angel,” Crowley said when the desserts were brought out. “What do you like to do for fun? What kinds of dates can I take you on?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks pinkened a bit. “Oh, I’m very easy to please,” he pooh-poohed. 

“Won’t you give me _some_ idea?”

“Well, I like to do all kinds of things.”

“Do you like art museums? Science?”

“I do, I like both. As well as history, as you know.”

“How about theatre? Do you like plays?”

“I do, very much. I rather enjoy supporting the arts.”

“Perhaps we could take in a play or two, then.”

“That would be lovely. But you really don’t have to go out of your way…”

“Nonsense. I need to sweep you off your feet.”

“You’re doing an outstanding job at that already,” Aziraphale said, then flushed crimson. Crowley just beamed, looking immensely pleased.

“How _often _can I see you? I want to respect your boundaries and take this at your pace, but I have to admit to being eager to see you as much as you’ll let me.”__

__“I - I want to see you often, too, but I think perhaps we should limit ourselves to one or two dates a week for now.”_ _

__“Whatever you want, angel. How about we have a standing date every Sunday afternoon or evening, and I can take you to lunch one day a week. Say on Wednesdays? We can do that for a few weeks, then add on more dates as you feel comfortable”_ _

__Aziraphale was touched by how thoughtful Crowley was. Most other men he’d dated would have been demanding more right away, but not Crowley. It made Aziraphale like him all the more._ _

__“Yes, that sounds like a lovely plan. I like it.”_ _

__“Perfect. I think I can get by with only two dates a week for now.”_ _

__He winked and Aziraphale giggled._ _

__“Can I still ring you or text you in the meantime?”_ _

__“Absolutely. You’re free to call or text me anytime. Whenever you think of me.”_ _

__“Oh, angel, you might regret saying that,” Crowley said, his grin mischievous. “I think of you all the time.”_ _

__“I’m quite sure I _won’t_ regret it,” Aziraphale flirted, feeling bold. “I look forward to talking to you, anytime I’m not working.”_ _

__“Good. I like talking to you, too.” Then he sighed._ _

__“What’s wrong, dear?”_ _

__“I just don’t want this evening to end.”_ _

__Aziraphale smiled. “I don’t want it to end, either. I love spending time with you. We’ll see each other on Wednesday, though, won’t we?”_ _

__Crowley gave him a lopsided grin. “I _think_ I can make it until Wednesday.”_ _

__Aziraphale giggled again. “We can _both_ make it. Thank you for this, Crowley.”_ _

__“For what?”_ _

__“For letting me go slow. I appreciate it more than I can tell you. I think we’ll be glad we did, in the long run.”_ _

__“Well, I’d say I’m happy to do it, but that wouldn’t be _entirely_ accurate. I’m champing at the bit for more… but it makes me happy to make _you_ happy. So I can wait as long as you need. I’ll do my best not to push you. I’ll prove I’m capable of being a gentleman.”_ _

__Aziraphale laughed. “I’m quite sure you are. Thank you, dear.”_ _

__“You’re welcome. Now, are you dead set on taking a cabn uber home, or can I drive you? I won’t touch you, I swear.”_ _

__He was simultaneously grateful and disappointed that Crowley had added that last bit. He said, “Soho is so far out of your way…”_ _

__“It’s not. I have nothing but time and I promise to behave myself. Can I? Please?”_ _

__“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind…”_ _

__“Angel, it would be my honor.”_ _

__“Alright,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Let me pay the bill and you can give me a ride home.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because some of you seem amazed or surprised or incredulous... Yes, the “healthy relationship” tag is legit. These two are going to fall in love (fairly quickly) and stay in love. There isn’t a ton of miscommunication (except for one situation) and Aziraphale and Crowley are truly on their own side. Almost all of the angst in this story is external. 💛
> 
> Edited to add: there IS angst coming in this story. Please don’t think that this story is 100% fluff - it’s not. There is going to be drama and strife and hard times, almost exclusively in the second half of the story. But I promise that these two will have a healthy relationship and communicate well through it, and come out the other side together.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wednesday, 21 April_

Crowley stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, winding a towel around his waist and using one hand to wipe away the fog from the mirror. Once he could see his reflection he smiled, unable to help himself. He was supposed to be picking Aziraphale up in forty-five minutes for lunch, and he was _excited_.

When he thought about it, when he really sat down and gave it a good, long think, he couldn’t remember ever being attracted to someone quite this way. Sure, he’d been in lots of relationships and had been attracted to everyone he’d dated, but not like _this_. There was a different quality to the way he felt about Aziraphale that he couldn’t describe, not even to himself. He thought that perhaps the difference was that in the past, he’d been attracted to his partners in only one or two ways - most of the time sexually or physically - and that had been that. But with Aziraphale, he was attracted in every possible way: sexually, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. He was drawn to Aziraphale’s very _soul_ , and he’d _never_ experienced _that_ before. At least, not romantically. And not so powerfully, either. 

Crowley had always scorned the idea of ‘love at first sight’, but since he’d met Aziraphale a week and a half ago, he was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong. He wasn’t prepared to say he was in love yet, but he knew without a doubt that’s where he was heading with the speed and force of a bullet train. Part of him was terrified - but the bigger part of him was elated. It had been a long, long time since he’d been in love - really, truly in love - and he thought he was more than ready. 

A couplet of lines sprang to mind, and he darted out of the bathroom into his bedroom to find his pen and jot them down before they could be lost. That done, he read over them, smiled to himself, then went back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

Crowley dressed himself quickly while his hair dried, then took a couple of minutes to apply the makeup to cover his tattoo. Once he was satisfied with that, he brushed his teeth, splashed on a little cologne, and checked his appearance one more time. He was as presentable as he was going to be, he decided, then he gave himself one more excited smile and left the bathroom and his flat, headed for his car.

When he arrived in Soho fifteen minutes later, he couldn’t find a spot near Aziraphale’s shop, so he had to park a couple of streets away. That was fine, he told himself, he was a bit early, anyway. So he got out of his Bentley, locked it, and started sauntering vaguely towards Aziraphale’s shop. He smiled when he caught sight of a florist up ahead, and didn't think twice before he ducked in and made a purchase. Within minutes, he was back on the street, humming an old tune about nightingales singing in Berkeley Square and smiling at everyone who looked his way. 

_God_ , it felt so _good_ to feel good.

A couple of minutes later, he arrived at Aziraphale’s shop and let himself in, still smiling. The bell jingled merrily, signaling his arrival, and Newt looked up from his place behind the counter. 

“Oh. Hel - hello,” he said, looking and sounding nervous. 

Crowley smiled, hoping to put the boy at ease. “Hello, Newt. How are you?”

“I’m good. I think.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“I - yeah. I don’t know why I said that. Just nervous, I guess.”

“Please don’t be nervous because of me. I’m just a regular bloke, with a slightly irregular job. I’m hoping you’re going to see me a lot in here, so you’ll get used to me.”

“Ah, yes. I hope so. Are you looking for Aziraphale?”

Crowley smiled again. “I am, yes. Is he here?”

“He’s with a customer. Would you like for me to go get him?”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’m a few minutes early, anyway. I’ll just browse around a bit while I wait. Is that okay?”

“Yes, you can do that. Aziraphale will be along shortly.” 

“Thanks, Newt,” Crowley said, giving him another disarming smile, then wandered off into the stacks, killing time. He was browsing titles in literary fiction when he heard what was becoming his favorite sound in the word - Aziraphale’s voice. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just not willing to part with it. It’s part of my private collection,” he said, sounding more firm than Crowley had ever heard. 

“I can raise my offer by ten percent. Fifteen. I just _really_ want that Bronte.”

“Well, I’m terribly sorry. Perhaps I could put you in touch with some other rare book dealers in London, and they could help you?”

“How about if I leave my card and you can ring me if you change your mind?”

“I _won’t_ change my mind, but you’re welcome to leave a card.”

Crowley waited until he heard them conclude their business (or lack thereof). As soon as the bell over the door rang, indicating that the customer was gone, Crowley made his appearance. Aziraphale didn’t see him at first when he stepped towards the counter, and Crowley smirked when he saw Aziraphale toss the business card he held into the rubbish. 

“Honestly. As if I would sell my Brontes,” he groused to Newt. 

“Hiya, angel,” Crowley said, his voice bright. 

Aziraphale whirled around to face him, and the answering smile he gave set off a riot of butterflies in Crowley’s chest. _Christ_ , he was just the most beautiful creature…

“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice fond. 

“I brought you something,” he said, stepping forward and offering the roses. “White for an angel, right?”

“Oh, they’re _stunning_ , Crowley. Absolutely _gorgeous_ ,” Aziraphale praised, reaching out to take the flowers. Their fingers brushed in the exchange and Crowley felt his heart rate double. For his part, Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the touch, and he gave a little gasp. Crowley was encouraged by that.

“Give me just a moment to put these in some water and I’ll be ready to go,” Aziraphale said, cheeks pink. 

“I’ll put them in water for you,” Newt said, surprising Crowley. He’d forgotten Newt was even there.

“Would you? Oh, thank you so much, dear. The vase is under the sink in the back room,” Aziraphale said, handing the flowers to Newt. “If you need me, just text or call and I’ll come back in a jiffy. Otherwise, I’ll be back in an hour.”

“No rush,” Newt said, taking the flowers and going towards the back room with them. 

Aziraphale watched him go, then turned and smiled at Crowley, making his pulse spike again. “Are you ready to go, dear?”

Crowley bent at the waist and gestured towards the door with a smile. “After you, angel.”

~*~O~*~

He’d thought he was braced for Aziraphale to make _that sound_ when he took his first bite of sushi, but the sound still hit him like a lorry and went straight to his cock. Fucking hell, he couldn’t wait to learn what sounds Aziraphale would make when they were making love. Could. Not. _Wait._ But for now, he redirected his thoughts and did his best to concentrate on his meal - and his date.

“Thank you _so_ much for the flowers, dear,” Aziraphale said after he swallowed. 

“Did you really like them?”

“Oh, I did! I do! They were a _lovely_ surprise. No one has given me flowers in years and years.”

“If you tell me your favorite color, next time, I’ll make sure to get them.”

Aziraphale looked pleased. “I like light blue.”

“Ah, yes. I should have figured, since you wear it so often.”

“Yes, well, it _is_ my favorite. What’s yours?”

“My favorite color?”

“Yes.”

“I like dark red, personally.”

“It’s a lovely color,” Aziraphale agreed, and they smiled at each other for a moment before they went back to their meals. 

“So you had a difficult customer?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Not _difficult_ , really. Just stubborn. He wanted to buy one of my first editions, but I have no interest in selling that one.”

“Any particular reason why not?”

“Because I restored it. I’ve poured a lot of _love_ into that book, and I’m attached to it. He could have had one of the other books that I _haven’t_ restored, but as I said, he was stubborn.” He paused and flushed a bit. “You must think me so silly…”

“That doesn’t sound silly to me.”

“You don’t think so?” Aziraphale asked, sounding surprised. 

“Not at all,” Crowley assured him. 

Aziraphale gave him another smile and his belly flip flopped. _Fuck_ , he had it so bad. 

Swallowing, he said, “So let me ask you something, angel.”

“Go ahead.”

“Who is your all-time favorite book character?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that. You’ll laugh.”

“I promise I won’t.”

It took a moment, but finally, with red cheeks and downturned eyes, Aziraphale said, “Winnie the Pooh.”

Crowley smiled, absolutely delighted. “Winnie the Pooh?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks were flaming and he was using his chopsticks to push around a roll on his plate. “I know, it’s ridiculous, but he’s so _pure_ , which I find refreshing in a world like ours. And there’s a certain wisdom to him, I think…”

“I agree. And I wouldn’t dare call that ridiculous. Those were my favorite books when I was a kid.” 

“They were?”

“Absolutely. Although I relate more to Tigger,” he said with a grin. 

“Yes, I can see where you’d say that,” Aziraphale replied with his own, amused smile. “How about you? Who is your favorite book character?”

“I think I’d have to say Ron Weasley.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Ron Weasley? Really?”

“Sure. Us gingers have to stick together, you know,” he said with a wink. Then he grinned. “You seem surprised.”

“I am. I never would have expected that you’d read Harry Potter.”

“I didn’t set out to read them. Ligur, my bass player, his daughter got interested in them, so he brought the books on tour to read so he’d have something to talk to her about. He raved about them, so I figured ‘what the hell?’ I read all of them in about ten days while on tour. That was four years ago now.”

“Well you could knock me over with a feather,” Aziraphale said, smiling brightly. “Do you have any other literary surprises for me?”

Crowley chuckled. “No, I don’t. And you’d probably be very disappointed in my personal library at my flat. Like I told you when we met, I’m not much of a reader, really. I prefer graphic novels, like The Sandman. But I do like the occasional biography.” 

“That’s good to know. Any particular type of subject?”

“I’m currently - very slowly - reading a biography about Robert the Bruce. Next up, I’ve got my eye on one about Henry VIII.” 

“I would have expected you to say you read about famous musicians.”

“I do, and I have. But they’re not as interesting to me. I _live_ that life. But I’ll never be king.”

“You must have met so many famous people…”

Crowley nodded. “I have.”

“Who was the biggest surprise to you?”

“Well, let’s see,” Crowley said, pondering. “I think I’d have to say Ringo Starr. He was a delight. Very down to earth bloke.”

“Was anyone a disappointment?”

“Oh, yes. There have been several disappointments. I learned quickly that I shouldn’t put anyone on much of a pedestal. They’re all people, just like us.”

“Who is your _favorite_ musician?”

“Freddie Mercury,” Crowley answered immediately. 

“I know that name…”

Crowley grinned. “He’s the lead singer of Queen. You know, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’?”

“Oh! Yes, I remember now. He’s your favorite?”

“Far and away my favorite. That’s also always my answer to ‘who would you like to have dinner with, living or dead’. I get that question fairly often in interviews.” 

“I imagine so.”

“Just out of curiosity, what would _your_ answer be to that question?”

“Oscar Wilde,” Aziraphale said easily, without thinking. 

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve had something of a literary crush on him for years and years.”

“I can see that,” Crowley said, wonderingly. “Yes, that tracks with what I know about you.”

“Indeed. I always have my eye out for first editions by him, but I’ve never found one.”

“I’m sure you’ll run up on one eventually.”

“I do hope so.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments until Crowley swallowed and said, “So, angel, I was doing a little research into places to take you.”

“Research?”

“Yeah. I read a few articles online and asked some of my friends for advice.”

Aziraphale flushed. “You told your friends about me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Crowley asked, confused. 

“I don’t know. I just expected you to keep me a secret or something.”

Crowley grinned and barely resisted the urge to reach across the table and take his hand. “Angel, I want to tell the world about you… eventually. I’d love to shout it from the rooftops. But for now, I just told my band members.” 

“What did they say?”

“They’re all thrilled and can’t wait to meet you.”

Aziraphale just flushed a little darker and Crowley smiled. 

“Anyway, I asked them for advice for places to take you on dates.”

“What did they suggest?”

“They had tons of ideas, actually. They told me about a place where you can have dinner on the rooftop then stargaze through some special telescopes. They also told me about a place in Borough Market where you can construct your own picnic basket, then take it to a park. Ligur suggested wine tasting, which sounds fun to me. When Beezle heard you were a bookseller, they suggested I take you to the reading room of the British Library.”

“Goodness. They really _did_ have lots of ideas.” 

Crowley grinned. “I told you they were happy for me. They all had lots more ideas, enough for a few months worth of dates, but I didn’t want to bombard you. Do any of those sound good to you?”

“It all sounds wonderful, honestly. I’d like to do all of them.”

“We can. We will. We’ll do as many of them as you’d like.”

Aziraphale looked to be considering. “Do you know, it’s been an age since I’ve been on a picnic. Years and years.”

“Is that what you’d like to do?”

“Yes, I think so. Weather permitting.”

“Perfect. We’ll pack a picnic hamper and go to a nearby park. There are botanical gardens there and I think I heard they’re having Shakespeare in the Park this weekend, too. Do you like Shakespeare?”

“Oh, I do, very much. Do you?”

“Not really the gloomy ones,” he said with a smile. 

“Well, if it’s not a comedy on Sunday, we can find something else to do.”

“I’m happy to watch whatever they’re putting on, if you want,” Crowley said. “I don’t mind the tragedies, I just prefer the comedies.”

“Understandably so. We’ll just see when we get there, shall we?”

“Sounds good. Can I pick you up? Say at one on Sunday?”

“Yes, I think I’d love that.”

“Excellent,” Crowley said, chuffed. “That’s perfect.”

~*~O~*~

_Friday, 23 April_

Crowley was sitting at his piano on Friday evening, his mind full of Aziraphale, writing a song, when his phone rang, startling him. He hoped it was Aziraphale, and was only slightly disappointed to see it was his mother. He glanced at the clock - it was after eight, and he usually called in the late afternoons. Shit. He’d forgotten to call today. 

Quickly, he answered the phone. “Hello, Mum.”

“Hello, yourself. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I was just wrapped up in writing a song and lost track of time.”

“I figured something like that, but you know me. I can’t help but worry.”

Crowley smiled. “I love you, too. So how are you? How’s your week been?”

“Oh, it’s been fine. Just a regular week. How about you?”

“It’s been a fine week so far.”

“Anything interesting to report?” she asked leadingly. Crowley narrowed his eyes a little. 

“Depends on how you define ‘interesting’,” he said, a bit suspicious. 

“Are you seeing someone?”

Crowley felt his heart drop. “I am, and I’ll tell you all about it in a minute, but first I need to know where you heard that.”

“I didn’t hear anything from anywhere, I just knew.”

“Do you _promise_? You didn’t get a google alert or anything? It’s important that I know for sure.”

“No, sausage, I didn’t. I’m your _mother_ and I know you. You’ve had your head in the clouds the last couple of times we talked. That’s all. I promise.”

“Okay,” Crowley said uncertainly, resolving to google himself after he got off the phone, just to be on the safe side. 

“Would you like to tell me about them?” his mother asked politely, but in a tone that told Crowley he’d better tell her whether he’d like to or not.

“Sure, I’d love to tell you about him. Do you remember the contest I told you I was going to do, raising money for the children’s hospital?”

“Yes, I believe so. You were raffling off a date with yourself or something.”

“That’s right. Well, the man that won the contest is named Aziraphale. He and I hit it off right away and we’re dating now.”

“Aziraphale. That’s rather an unusual name.”

“He’s a bit of an unusual bloke,” Crowley said with a smile. 

“What does he do?”

“He owns a bookshop in Soho.”

She waited a beat, then encouraged him. “And? Tell me more.”

“God, Mum, I don’t even know where to start. He’s so kind and good and wonderful - like a real life angel. And he’s beautiful. Absolutely the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s got light blond, curly hair and blue eyes that are just the most stunning shade.” 

“How old is he?”

“He’s forty-two.”

“So about your age.”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever been married?”

“No, but he _is_ just coming out of a long term relationship. So we’re taking things very slow.”

“Slow is not your default speed,” she pointed out, a smile in her voice. 

“No, it’s not. But I’m willing to do it for him.”

“So he has _no_ connection with the music industry?”

“Not at all. He’s just a bookseller. I hate to say that because I feel like it diminishes him, and he’s _so much more_ than ‘just a bookseller’, but I hope you know what I mean.”

“I do. And that’s refreshing, that he’s not in the industry.”

“It is.”

“What else can you tell me about him? What made you ask for a second date?”

“Lots of things made me want to see him again. Like when he asked me to let him pay for his meal on our first date - a date he’d won. He said he wanted the money to go to charity.”

“So he’s generous _and_ a gentleman.”

Crowley grinned. “Yeah. He is. He also had _no idea_ who I was when he met me.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not. I thought for a minute I was in the middle of a practical joke, but he was serious. He didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ll bet that was a blow to your ego.”

“Only for like thirty seconds. Then I was _thrilled_ , and it made me even more attracted to him.”

“I imagine so. So you’re going to take it slow?”

“Yes. Mostly because I’m determined to do everything _right_ with him. But also because he just got out of a long term relationship, as I’ve mentioned. And then there’s the fact that we’re trying to keep a low profile for a while to keep the press from finding out.” 

“Yes, I suppose I’ll be getting tons of google alerts when word gets out.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Well, he sounds lovely. Will you let me meet him?”

“Honestly, I can’t wait to introduce you. I’m mad about him, and it’s only been a couple of weeks. You’re going to love him. Just give me a couple of months to get us established as a couple, and I’ll bring him to dinner.”

“Alright. I think I can wait,” she said, her tone teasing. “Now, when can I expect a visit from my son?”

Crowley mentally checked his schedule. “How about if I come for dinner on Tuesday evening? Do you have plans?”

“Well, I do now. I’ll go to Waitrose and get the stuff I need to make shepherd’s pie.”

“That would be good, Mum. Thank you.”

They talked for a little longer and Crowley’s mother filled him in on all the gossip surrounding her bridge club and his cousin, James. Crowley listened as attentively as he could, but wasn’t upset when she seemed to lose steam after a few minutes. 

“Well, I’ll let you go, sausage. I just wanted to call and hear your voice, to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m glad you called, Mum. Sorry I lost track of time.”

“It’s quite alright. You go back to writing and I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Yes, you will. Bye, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you, too, sausage.”

She rang off and Crowley smiled at the phone for a minute. She hadn’t even batted an eye when Crowley had told her he was dating a man. She’d known he was bisexual for ages, of course, but it was still a relief that she was so accepting. He didn’t take his mother’s support for granted. He was lucky to have her, and couldn’t wait to introduce her to Aziraphale. 

Still smiling, he put his mobile down and went back to the piano, playing and writing.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sunday, 25 April_

Aziraphale glanced up at the clock for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes, then put his eyes back on the book in his hand. He _wasn’t_ reading, he was just staring at the pages, thinking of Crowley, but he wouldn’t put the book down. He knew himself well enough to know that if he put it down, he’d just be pacing with excitement and nerves. It was better to keep his hands occupied - even if his brain wouldn’t focus on the words. 

It was 12:56, according to his clock, and Crowley had said he’d pick Aziraphale up at one. He wondered if Crowley would be punctual, or the type to be fashionably late. He _seemed_ like he would be the fashionably late type, but then again, he’d been prompt to all their other dates. There was no logical reason why he’d be late to this one. 

Aziraphale was overthinking and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop his brain. 

It had been almost two weeks since he’d met Crowley, ten days since he’d showed up to take him for a second date, and Aziraphale _still_ couldn’t believe he was dating Crowley. He couldn’t believe he was dating _anyone_ , to be honest. After he’d split with Gabriel in February - on Valentine’s Day, no less - he’d privately decided not to date anyone for a long time. Perhaps forever. He was happy as a bachelor, he told himself, and _certainly_ happier without someone like Gabriel in his life. There was no need to seek out a man. And he’d meant that. He’d been prepared to sail into his golden years alone, with his books - or to at _least_ spend most of his forties on his own. But then, by some wild chance, he’d won that contest, met Crowley, and here he was, dating again. And he was _happy_ to be dating again. He was happy to be dating _Crowley_. Honestly, he doubted he’d be so happy with anyone else. It was different because it was _Crowley_. 

_Everything_ was so different with Crowley, every little thing. Aziraphale had never gone in for the bad boy type, not even when he was younger, and certainly not in recent years. But Aziraphale didn’t think Crowley really _was_ a bad boy. He seemed to be, at first glance, but Aziraphale knew better. Crowley was kind, gentle, thoughtful, and an all around nice man. Aziraphale had always thought of himself as a good judge of character, and he’d detected no artifice in Crowley during their time together. Crowley was just so _genuine_. It was the complete opposite of what he’d expected from a rock star - especially one as big as Crowley was.

Aziraphale felt a little unsettled when he thought about the prospect of being followed by paparazzi, but he did his best to push the discomfort aside. It would be fine, he knew it would. Unpleasant, yes, but that unpleasantness was the price he had to pay to be with Crowley - and he was willing to pay it. The joys of a relationship with Crowley would far outweigh the downsides. He couldn't say how he knew that, he just _knew_. 

In all his life, Aziraphale had never dated anyone so eager to please him, to woo him, as Crowley was. He'd never been courted quite like this before, and it was dizzying. None of Aziraphale’s past boyfriends had ever done anything like this careful romancing, and Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. When he’d talked to Tracy and Newt about it, they had both told him emphatically to simply enjoy it. Aziraphale was trying, but this wasn’t a one way street. He wanted to please _Crowley_ , too, and he had no idea how to go about it. How did one go about winning the heart of a celebrity? Tracy pooh-poohed him and insisted that Crowley’s heart was already won. He just needed to claim it. 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure he believed that, but it was nice to think about and he hoped things were headed in that direction. Even though it had only been two weeks, Aziraphale was starting to believe that his heart had been claimed, too. It was Crowley’s for the taking. He hardly thought of Gabriel anymore, now that he’d met Crowley. And that was a _good_ thing. All of it. But he still felt sure that rushing into a relationship would lead to heartache later, that they would be best served to take things as slow as they could stand it. He wondered to himself how long he’d be able to hold out before moving things along. Already, his head was full of daydreams about holding Crowley’s hand, kissing him, cuddling together on the couch in front of the telly - and some _other_ daydreams that made him blush to think about. _Lots_ of other daydreams like that. Quickly, before his body could react, he pushed those to the side. 

There was a knock at the door, startling him out of his thoughts, and he put the book down, swallowing his nerves and excitement. He went to the door, put his hand on the knob, and took a deep breath before he pulled it open. What greeted him on the other side made him smile. 

Crowley was standing there in his usual, fitted back clothes with his hair pulled partially back and his hip cocked. He had his hands in his pockets and was smiling that lopsided smile Aziraphale loved. 

“Hiya, angel.”

“Hello,” Aziraphale said, feeling all aflutter. 

“Ready to go?”

“Yes, I just need to grab my mobile from the charger. Won’t you step in a minute?”

“Sure,” Crowley said, stepping inside. Once he was in, he looked around the place and Aziraphale felt a little self conscious.

“It’s not much, I’m afraid. I’m sure it’s pitiful compared to your home. Homes,” he amended, flushing. 

“No, I think it’s brilliant. It’s exactly what I had pictured for you. All these books…”

“Well, yes. Books are a huge part of my life.”

Crowley just grinned at him. 

“I’ll, um, I’ll be right back,” he said, then scurried off to the bedroom to retrieve his mobile. While he was in there, he took a minute to close his eyes and blow out a big breath. This was fine. Crowley was in his flat, but that was fine. He’d never been so attracted to anyone, ever, in his life, but that was fine, too. It was all fine. 

Squaring his shoulders, he grabbed his mobile, went out to the lounge, and smiled at Crowley. “Do we need to take a hamper?”

“I’ve got one in the car. And a blanket.”

“Oh, jolly good. So we’re ready?”

“I’m ready if you are.”

“Let’s go, dear.”

~*~O~*~

It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that made one want to revel in it. Aziraphale was not surprised when they arrived at the park to find it well-populated with families and couples enjoying the weather. As a result, it took a bit longer to find a picnic spot, but they eventually did, under a nice, shady tree. 

Crowley sat down the now-full hamper and took the dark red blanket from Aziraphale’s arms, spreading it out gallantly. Aziraphale just watched him with a smile, then toed off his shoes and stepped onto the blanket, bringing the hamper with him, sitting down. Crowley pulled off his shoes and joined him, sitting down beside Aziraphale, leaving about a foot and a half of distance between them. He was still close enough to Aziraphale to make the blond man’s pulse spike. Goodness. If that was the reaction just from being _close_ to Crowley, what would it be like when they actually, properly touched? Aziraphale worried he might combust. At the same time, he hoped to find out very soon. 

Aziraphale opened the hamper and started distributing the foods they’d selected at Borough Market: a selection of meats, cheese, and fruits similar to what you’d find on a charcuterie board, with wine to drink and cream puffs for dessert. While Aziraphale served them, Crowley pulled out the bottle of wine and opened it, pouring them each a measure into the plastic cups he’d brought. Aziraphale took his cup with a smile of thanks, and briefly considered proposing a toast, but didn’t. He didn’t quite know what to toast to that wouldn’t be too forward. 

They tucked in, and Aziraphale was amused to see the way Crowley watched him, tense, as he took his first bite. He didn’t react, though, just hid his smile and refrained from making too much noise. Crowley seemed relieved, and Aziraphale was even more amused. Perhaps he’d put on a little bit of a show when they started dessert. It wouldn’t be difficult. He _loved_ cream puffs. 

“I noticed you left your tattoo uncovered today,” Aziraphale said.

“Did I? Damn. I forgot. I’m sorry. Hopefully that won’t cause us to be recognized.”

“I think it would be alright if you were, really, at least by an average citizen. Besides, I think I’d like to see you interact with your fans.”

“You would?”

“Yes, I think so. It’s a side of you I’m interested in.” In truth, he was interested in _all_ Crowley’s sides, but he didn’t dare say yet. 

“Well, you’ll likely get your wish before too long. I usually get recognized a couple of times a week when I don’t have the tattoo covered. I’m sorry I forgot to cover it today. That was irresponsible of me.”

“Don’t be sorry, dear. I don’t mind, honestly.” He took a bite of his food then asked, “What made you decide to get that tattoo?”

“It was an impulse, really. The snake is the cover art from my first major label album. It went platinum, and I wanted to memorialize my success in some way. I actually really _love_ the design, I just wish I’d put it somewhere else on my body. It didn’t occur to me when I was twenty three and stupid that a facial tattoo would make me stand out more. I learned my lesson, though. All my other tattoos are places that are easily covered.” 

“How many do you have?”

“Let’s see…” he said, looking thoughtful. “I have one sleeve that’s the scene from the garden of Eden with the tree, the apple, and the snake. That’s on my right arm. My left sleeve is the cosmos - stars and planets and galaxies and whatnot. Both of those go from my shoulder to my forearm, so I can roll up my sleeves and they won’t show. I have the album art for my second album on my back from shoulder blade to shoulder blade…”

“What is it?”

“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting you wouldn’t know. It’s an hourglass with wings.”

“I’m sure that’s lovely.”

“It’s a pretty design. I also have the words ‘sauntering vaguely downward’ in Japanese on my side, over my ribs.”

“Is there any particular significance to that?”

“It was the name of my album in 2010.”

“Ah. yes. Are there any others?”

“No, although I have loose plans for more.”

“What would you want to get? Something pertaining to an upcoming album?”

“Yeah, probably. My goal is to be tattooed on all the continents, save Antarctica.”

“How many do you have left to go?”

“Only two, Africa and South America. I got my Eden sleeve here in London, I had my astronomy sleeve done in LA. The Japanese characters I had done in Tokyo while I was there on tour, and the art for ‘Out of Time’ I did in Sydney.”

“Are all of your tattoos related to your music?”

“My sleeves aren’t. I got the astronomy tattoo because I just love space. It’s fascinating to me. The great unknown, you know? I flipped a coin when I went to uni between botany and astronomy and I wonder all the time if I made the right choice.”

“I find space to be very interesting, too. What about your other sleeve?”

“I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of original sin, and the story of Eden. Even as a kid, I thought it was a bum rap that the snake is seen as evil. I mean, that snake was probably just some demon, doing his job.” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offense and everything. And I can’t see what’s so wrong about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.”

“No, I can’t either. But I assume God must have some great, ineffable plan that we couldn’t understand.”

“Perhaps so.”

Aziraphale thought for a second, then, quite without his permission, his mouth opened and said, “Well, I am very much looking forward to seeing all of them.”

He nearly clapped a hand over his mouth when he realized what he’d said and his cheeks were flaming like anything. For his part, Crowley looked surprised, his ginger eyebrows appearing from behind the glasses, but there was a delighted smile on his face. Aziraphale looked away hurriedly. Mercifully, Crowley didn’t say anything about what he’d said. He just sat there, looking pleased. 

“I, um, it seems you’ve traveled a lot,” Aziraphale said, trying to change the subject.

“I have. It’s part of my job.”

“Do you ever travel for fun?”

“I do sometimes. A holiday here or there a couple of times a year. But when I’m not on tour or recording, I’m usually pretty close to home.”

“Where have you been, just for fun?”

“I’ve been to Japan and Australia and most of the major cities in Europe. I really enjoyed what I saw of Russia and I’d like to go back sometime. I also really enjoyed India.” 

“Yes, I hear India is beautiful. Where would you _like_ to go?”

“I’d like to visit Egypt, to see the pyramids and tombs. I’d like to go to China and see the Great Wall. There are lots of places I’ve seen from a bus window as I’m passing through, on tour, and would like to get back to sometime.” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “But forget about me, I’m talking too much. What about you? Have you done much traveling?”

“No, not really. My vocation keeps me at home, for the most part. I did travel to the continent for my gap year, and enjoyed that. I’d love to go visit some of those places again sometime. I’d also very much like to spend time in Greece and Rome. I’ve always found the ancients to be fascinating. I’d love to see Pompeii, for example.”

“Okay, let me ask you this way. If you got a call tomorrow that said, ‘Congratulations, Mr. Fell, you’ve won a two week holiday to anywhere in the world’, where would you like to go?”

“Oh, somewhere tropical, I should think. Somewhere with white sand and frilly drinks where I could lie beside the ocean and just read for hours. Maybe in a hammock, strung up between two palm trees.”

Crowley was grinning. “That sounds heavenly to me, too, angel. Maybe we can do that sometime. In the future, I mean.”

Aziraphale flushed but smiled. “Yes, I’d like that. Sometime in the future, of course.”

“Of course.”

They were quiet a moment, both of them lost to thoughts about a romantic getaway to the tropics, until Aziraphale shook himself. As lovely as that would be and as much as he hoped for that to happen someday, it was _much_ too soon to be thinking about taking holidays together. Much, _much_ too soon. But someday…

“Tell me a secret,” Crowley said, breaking into Aziraphale’s thoughts. The way he was smiling made Aziraphale’s heart skip a beat.

“Pardon?”

“Tell me a secret. Something no one else knows. Tell me _two_ secrets.”

“Are you going to return the favor?” Aziraphale asked, smiling flirtatiously. 

“I will. For every secret you tell me, I’ll tell you one. Deal?”

“I suppose that sounds fair.”

“Alright, go on,” Crowley said, encouraging. “I’m dying to hear.”

“I have a tattoo, too,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley’s brows reappeared from behind his glasses. “You _do_?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging. What is it? Where is it?”

“It’s on my forearm. And it’s a word in Latin.”

“Is it recent?” Crowley asked, looking confused.

“No, I’ve had it for some time. Since uni.”

“Then how is it a secret?”

“Its _existence_ isn’t a secret, although only a handful of people know about it. The secret I’ve never told anyone is what it _means_.”

Crowley was smiling. “But you’re going to tell me?”

“Well, yes.”

“I’m all ears, angel.”

“Well, to understand the significance, you need to understand that I used to be very meek. Unassuming. People mistook my kindness and generosity for me being a doormat and it led to me being walked on frequently.”

“I don’t like thinking about that,” Crowley said, his mouth set in a line. 

“Oh, it’s fine now. I grew a spine when I opened my shop. I kind of had to. The only exception when I _haven’t_ stood up for myself was with Gabriel, and my only excuse is that his ugliness towards me was a very gradual thing. It came on slowly, and snuck up on me. I was stupid to allow it.” Crowley looked angry, and Aziraphale regretted bringing it up. “But that wasn’t my point. Well, it runs into my point. I’m rambling, and I’m afraid I’ve nearly forgotten what I was talking about.”

Crowley grinned. “It’s cute. But you were telling me about your tattoo.”

“Oh, right. Well, in my early twenties, I was practically a doormat, as I said. And it would drive me spare, the way people talked to me, but I didn’t have the guts to stick up for myself. So I got a tattoo to boost my confidence. A little secret, just for me.”

“What did you get?”

“I got the word ‘irrumabo’ in Latin,” he said with a grin. 

Crowley was grinning, too. “And what does that mean?”

“It means ‘fuck’ or ‘suck my cock’, depending on the tranlsation.”

Crowley threw back his head and barked a laugh. Aziraphale giggled too, but didn’t miss the chance to take in the sight of his long neck. 

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Crowley said, his smile bright. 

“I’m not,” Aziraphale assured him. “I had that tattooed on my arm and every time someone made a belittling comment towards me, I’d think of my tattoo and smile to myself.”

“That’s fucking _delightful_ ,” Crowley said, still grinning. “How did you keep the meaning a secret?”

“Whenever someone asked, I’d tell them it meant ‘strength’.”

“You sneaky devil,” Crowley said admiringly. 

“Now it’s your turn.”

“Mine isn’t nearly as funny…”

“Oh, please do tell me. I’d love to know.”

“Alright. My secret is that I still get stage fright sometimes. Even after all these years.”

“You do?”

Crowley nodded. “I do. You’re the first person I’ve ever told that to, except my therapist.”

“Well, what do you _do_ about it?”

He shrugged. “I just power through it, mostly. Once I actually get on stage and start performing, it’s not bad. It goes completely away, and I’m in my element. I just have to get through the anxiety building up to that moment. Sometimes it’s worse than others. Sometimes, I can shake it off easily. It’s always bad on opening night, and it’s bad when I do TV appearances. Going on telly is the worst.”

“And nobody in your life knows this?”

“Only you and my therapist,” Crowley said simply.

“Not even your bandmates?”

“I think they suspect, but I’ve never told them.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Well, I must say how impressive I find that.”

Crowley laughed. “You find my cowardice _impressive_?”

“It’s not cowardice, dear. It’s the exact opposite. It’s incredibly brave of you to face your fear the way you do. I don’t think I could do it. I admire you greatly.”

“Yeah?” he said, giving that lopsided smile. 

“Yes, indeed. I’m inspired by you.”

Crowley was grinning. “You really are perfect, aren’t you, angel?”

“Oh, I’m hardly perfect, as you’ll learn over time. For heaven’s sake, I had a swear word tattooed on me.”

“That’s just testament to how fucking perfect you really are,” Crowley said earnestly. “And I’m very much hoping you’ll let me stick around long enough to see these flaws you claim to have.”

“I hope you’ll stick around, too,” Aziraphale said, and he’d never meant anything more.

They were silent a moment, gazing at each other, and Aziraphale wanted very much to kiss him, to touch him, to be close to him. He was debating to himself about the merit of actually going slow or leaning forward and kissing his pretty mouth. Thankfully, Crowley looked at his watch, breaking the moment.

“Say, angel, Shakespeare in the Park starts in fifteen minutes. Do you still want to go?”

“Oh, yes. I’d love to.”

“Let’s get cleaned up, then, and make our way over. We’ll watch As You Like It while we nibble on cream puffs and sip wine.”

“That sounds lovely, dear. Lead the way.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Sunday, 2 May_

“What’s the name of this place again?” Aziraphale asked as they strolled down the pavement in Covent Garden. 

“It’s called Clos Maggiore,” Crowley replied. “It’s French.”

“Are you _sure_ I’m dressed appropriately?” he fretted, smoothing his hands down his waistcoat. 

“You look perfect, angel.”

“Oh, I do hope so…”

“I promise.”

Aziraphale’s hands clasped anxiously in front of him and Crowley wanted to reach out and touch. It took a supreme act of will to keep his own hands in his pockets. 

“Have you been here before?” 

“No, but this place came highly recommended - by more than one person. I thought we could try it together.”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

They arrived at the restaurant and Crowley opened the door with a flourish. Aziraphale smiled at him and they went inside, to the maitre’d. 

“Reservation for Fell, please,” Crowley said easily. He didn’t miss Aziraphale’s curious look, but neither said anything. 

“Right this way, sirs,” the maitre’d said, leading them into the dining room. 

Crowley glanced around as they were led to their table. He’d been told by Hastur and Anathema both that the atmosphere was very romantic, and what he’d been able to see of the website had seemed to back that up. The actual reality didn’t disappoint. The walls were paneled with rich, warm wood, there was a roaring log fire in the hearth, and the views were exquisite. The ceiling seemed to be retractable, and when he looked up, he saw the darkening sky. It felt like the hustle and bustle of London was a million miles away, and he loved it. He only hoped Aziraphale did, as well. 

They were taken to a table by the windows, and Crowley pulled out Aziraphale’s chair when they arrived, earning a blush. He just smiled in return and took his own seat. 

As soon as the maitre’d had left, Crowley leaned over and said in a low voice, “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about using your last name. It slipped my mind.”

“Oh, no, I understand. I don’t blame you. It was a very smart move.”

Crowley smiled, pleased, but didn't get to say anything before the waiter appeared bearing menus and the wine list. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his eyes wide. “This wine list is a hundred pages! I’ve got books shorter than this!”

He grinned. “I’d heard they specialized in wine. I’m excited to try some. What kind are you in the mood for?”

Aziraphale was still flipping through the wine list, wide eyed. “I don’t quite know.”

“How do you feel about sweet wine?”

“I like sweet wine very much.”

“How about a bottle of Klein Constantia?”

Aziraphale scanned the wine list, then looked up at Crowley. “My dear, that’s one of the most expensive wines on this list.”

“And? I’m buying tonight.”

“You bought the last three times.”

“And?” Crowley repeated.

“I can’t let you pay _all_ the time.”

“Why not? I have more money than I could ever spend, and I want to spend it on you. At least some of it.”

“Because it’s not _fair_.”

Crowley sighed, then leaned forward and said, “Look, angel, I really want to date you. To sweep you off your feet. Won’t you please let me?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks were a little pink, but his blue eyes were sincere. “Don’t you see, my dear? I want to date you, too. To court you and woo you.”

He softened at that like butter in the sun. “Alright. I’ll make you a deal. You let me pay for our Sunday dates, and I’ll let you cover lunches on Wednesday. That way, we’re taking turns.”

The angel appeared to be considering this. “I think I can agree to that.”

Crowley smiled. “Good. So we’re getting the Klein Constantia?”

“If you insist,” Aziraphale said with a smile. Crowley smiled back, happy. 

They both decided on the leek and potato soup to start out and the squash and parmesan tortellini for their meal. When the waiter came, Crowley ordered for them, chuffed that Aziraphale was allowing him to do so, then handed the menu back to the waiter. Once he was gone, Crowley turned back to Aziraphale with a smile. Honestly, he couldn’t help it. He was too happy to do anything _but_ smile.

“When you said french food, I have to admit to being a little trepidatious,” Aziraphale said. “The worst meal I ever ate was french gourmet.”

“Oh? What was it?”

“I got talked into eating escargot,” he said with a shudder. “Never again.”

“I’ve never had the nerve to try. Was it not good?”

“The flavor was fine, I suppose, but I couldn’t get past the texture. It was simultaneously slimy and rubbery.”

Crowley cringed. “Christ, that sounds awful. I’ll be sure to avoid that, then.”

“What’s the most unusual thing _you’ve_ ever eaten? You must have tried so many exotic foods, touring the way you do.”

“You would think so, but most of my diet on the road is pure junk. I don't get much of a chance to sample local delicacies. I do sometimes, but not often. But to answer your question, there’s a restaurant in LA that puts rattlesnake on pizza.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“What was it like?”

“I hate to sound cliche, but it tasted almost like chicken.”

The waiter appeared with their bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured each of them a glass, told them the food would be out shortly, and left them. Crowley picked up the wineglass, heart pounding, and raised it. 

“A toast, angel?”

Aziraphale raised his glass with a smile. “To what?”

“To us.”

His smile brightened. “To us,” he echoed, then they clinked glasses. 

“So tell me more about what you do,” Aziraphale said after they’d taken a sip. 

“How do you mean?”

“Tell me about the process of making music. How do you start? I assume by writing a song.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll write about fifteen songs for each album and cut demos for the record company. Usually, I only like about half of them, and the record label will tell me what _they_ like. Once I have enough to work with, I go into the studio to record. There’s a lot of writing that goes on in the recording studio, too. It’s a very creative time.”

“I’d bet so. What’s recording like?”

“It’s usually fairly intense, but it’s fun.”

“How long does it take to record an album?”

“Anywhere between two weeks to six months.”

“Goodness.”

“Yeah. Both of those are on the extreme end of the spectrum, though: it usually takes around one to two months.”

“And then what?”

“Then the record company takes over. They polish the music and start the publicity machine. It’s during that time that tours are planned. A few months after I finish recording, the album is released and I go on tour not long after that.”

“And you said tours last several months.”

“They can, yes.”

“Do you _like_ touring?”

“I do, but it can get wearing. It’s always fun for the first few weeks. By the time we get to the last few shows, I’m desperate for my own bed and a home that doesn’t move. It takes a while to decompress after a big tour. I’m still decompressing a bit from the last one.”

“It sounds grueling.”

“It can be. But overall, I really enjoy it.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Crowley took another sip of his wine. “So tell me, angel, what’s the most interesting book you have?”

“The most interesting?”

“Yes. Which book has the best story behind it? I don’t mean the story in the pages, I mean the _book’s_ story.”

“Well, ‘interesting’ is very subjective…”

Crowley grinned. “Which one is the most interesting _to you_?”

“I have a couple of diaries from eighteenth century pirates.”

His eyes widened behind his glasses. “ _Those_ sound interesting…”

“They are, very. Nobody important, really, or they’d be in a museum. But one was written by a first mate and the other was by a captain. I suppose none of the others could read or write.”

“Are they full of swashbuckling tales of adventure?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. They’re both mostly gossip about the crew.”

“Well that’s a bit of a letdown,” Crowley said with a grin. 

“Indeed. I also have a couple of misprinted bibles.”

“Misprinted bibles?”

“Yes. Bibles with errors in them. They’re my favorite.”

“Errors like what?”

“Like, I have one where the typesetter went rogue and added ‘buggre alle this’ right into the text.”

“You’re fucking joking!” Crowley said with a delighted laugh. 

“I’m not,” Aziraphale giggled. “I can show you sometime.”

“Yes, I’d very much like to see that.”

“I’d love to show you,” Aziraphale said, and something about his tone and the way he was looking at Crowley made his heart jump in his throat. It was almost _heated_. 

Crowley’s mouth went dry, his eyes widened, and he had no idea what to say. He had a feeling that he was no longer speeding _towards_ being in love, he was already there - and that this time would be different from every other time before. This time, his love would last forever. 

Crowley could hardly wait.

~*~O~*~

After dinner, they emerged onto the pavement into the night air. Crowley wasn’t nearly ready to end the date, but wasn’t sure how to ask for more time - or if he even should. He was still reeling from the realization that he was _in love_ with Aziraphale. Part of him wanted to go home right that minute and ponder on that, on what it meant. The bigger part of him wanted to stay with Aziraphale forever.

He debated with himself for just a moment, then decided that _not_ asking to spend more time with Aziraphale was more likely to be a regret, so he swallowed and said, “Hey, angel, it’s only eight. Would you like to go for a walk?”

“I’d love that. Where to?”

Crowley shrugged. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I dunno. The embankment isn’t far away.”

“I haven’t been to the embankment in a long time. Let’s do that.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said with a bright, happy smile. He thought about offering his elbow, but thought better of it at the last second. Still smiling, they started walking towards the Thames. 

Crowley had always liked Covent Garden. It was one of his favorite areas of London. He found it a bit easier to blend into the crowd here, and after dark, he was practically anonymous. It was the ideal place to bring a date, he thought, and he wondered about bringing Aziraphale back sometime. 

They ran up on a busker a couple of streets over from the restaurant, and Crowley was surprised when Aziraphale stopped to watch. They joined the small crowd around the young man and watched as he played a song Crowley didn’t recognize on his guitar. Aziraphale seemed most interested, but Crowley spent most of the time watching Aziraphale, a little jealous of the rapt look on Aziraphale’s face as he watched. He wanted that look to be directed towards _him_. 

He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to appreciate this type of music, but now he was seized with the mad desire to play for Aziraphale, to earn that look for himself. 

The young man finished his song and the small crowd clapped politely. A couple of people, Aziraphale included, threw some money into his guitar case before taking off. Crowley withdrew his wallet discreetly while the crowd dispersed, pulled out a fifty and a five, folded the fifty in with the five so it wouldn’t be seen, and put it in the case. When he stood, he gave a pursed-lip nod to the young man and they started back towards the embankment. 

“I saw that,” Aziraphale said when they were a few feet away.

Crowley felt a thrill of something like dread. “You saw what?”

“I saw what you gave that young man, although you tried to hide it.”

He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I didn’t _intend_ for you to see that.”

“I know. That’s what made it all the more impressive. You’re so kind, dear.”

“Don’t say that. If you spread that around, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Oh, I don’t believe you have a reputation.”

“I do. I’m not always a nice guy. I’m actually quite an arsehole.”

“You’ve never been anything but kind to me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s _you_. I don’t think I could be ugly to you if I tried.”

Aziraphale chuckled and they walked in silence for a minute, until Aziraphale said, “Crowley?”

“Yes, angel?”

“I think I’d like to listen to your music sometime soon.”

Crowley hadn’t expected that and glanced at him with wide eyes. “You would?”

“Yes, I think I would. I feel like it would help me to know you better, and I very much want to know you better.”

The thought of Aziraphale listening to his music was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying, and it made something inside of him squirm a little. On one hand, sharing that part of himself would make him feel vulnerable. Despite the fact that he had millions of fans, those were strangers. Aziraphale _mattered_. His opinion would carry a tremendous amount of weight, and he was terrified that Aziraphale might not like what he heard. 

On the other hand, music was such a big part of his life, and he wanted to share _everything_ with Aziraphale. He wanted to hold nothing back. If they were going to be in a relationship - which was what Crowley wanted more than anything in his life - he would have to open up eventually. 

Both of those thoughts rattled around in his brain and Crowley had no idea which one to give more weight to. Finally, he decided to be honest. 

“Angel, I’d love for you to listen to my music, but I’m afraid you’re going to hate it.”

“Oh, I could never.”

“You _could_ ,” Crowley insisted. “I’d like to ease you into it, if you’d be willing to let me do that.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“I’d like to take you to a show. I know a couple of musicians who play clubs around town sometimes. Singer/songwriter types. If you like their music, you’ll probably be able to tolerate some of mine.”

“I’m sure I’m going to do more than _tolerate_ it, dear. I feel sure I’m going to adore your music, because _you_ made it.”

Crowley was warmed by that. “I’m hoping like hell you do.”

“When do you want to go to this show?”

“I’ll check around and see what I can find. It may not be a Sunday night, though. Would that be okay?”

Aziraphale grinned. “I think we can have an extra date, if you’d like. Just give me a couple of days' warning so I can make sure to have coverage for the shop, if I need it.”

“I will.”

“Thank you, Crowley. I really do appreciate you letting me in this way, and I'm very excited to hear your music sometime soon.”

“I just hope you like it.”

“I’m quite sure I will.”

They reached the embankment a few minutes later, and found a bench overlooking the river. It was a stunning night: the sky was inky black, the moon was full and shining down on them, and the air was warm. The lights of London glowed on the opposite side of the Thames, and boats and clippers sailed by on the dark water. Couples strolled along the riverbank, hand in hand, and Crowley couldn’t help but be jealous of the way they were all touching. He wanted to touch Aziraphale, too. He wanted to be able to feel his love’s fingers between his own, and it took nearly all his willpower not to reach for him. 

“What are you thinking?” Aziraphale asked, his voice a little hushed. 

Crowley didn’t dare say ‘I’m debating how much longer I can hold out before I touch you,’ so he decided on the next thing that was true. 

“I’m just thinking what a lovely night it’s been, and how sad I am for it to end.”

“It has been a lovely night, hasn’t it? But then, every date with you has been lovely.”

Crowley grinned. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale returned his smile. “Yes. Each one gets better and better. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, angel. Never. It’s my biggest pleasure to take you out and spend time with you, to show you a good time.”

They lapsed into silence for a little while, and Crowley kept sneaking glances at Aziraphale’s hand. Did he have the nerve? Would that be pushing things too far? Silently, he waged a war within himself about whether or not to touch Aziraphale. 

“Where do you suppose we’d end up if we got on that boat?” Aziraphale asked, breaking into his thoughts. 

“I don’t know, honestly. There’s no telling. We could end up in South Africa or Amsterdam. There’s no way to know.”

“If we went to South Africa, you could get your next tattoo.”

“I could. And you could get yours.”

“Oh, I don’t know that I’ll ever get another,” Aziraphale said, grinning. “To be honest, I didn’t enjoy the pain.”

“I’d hold your hand, angel,” Crowley said with a smile. 

Aziraphale turned to look at him, and his eyes were ineffably tender. “You would?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, suddenly serious, his voice hushed. “I would.”

Aziraphale’s eyes searched his face in the low light, then he turned back to the river. Crowley gazed at his profile for a minute, then turned back himself. 

He felt something brush along his little finger and looked down quickly to see Aziraphale’s little finger reaching out for his. He watched, wide eyed with his heart stopped, as Aziraphale linked their fingers together. Crowley stared at their joined hands for a moment, stunned, then had a flash of boldness and moved their hands so they were palm to palm, their fingers interlaced. Very quickly, he glanced up at Aziraphale to see that the angel was now looking at their hands, smiling. 

“Is that alright?” Crowley asked, anxious. 

“Yes. I rather think it is.”

Crowley smiled brilliantly, and Aziraphale smiled in return. Then they both turned back to the water and the couples and the boats, holding hands in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finished writing this story! I only have the epilogue left to write. It's going to be 35 chapters and an epilogue, and the epilogue will be posted on January 28!


	8. Chapter 8

_Wednesday, 12 May_

Aziraphale emerged from the back room at a little before one on Wednesday. He’d been working on restoring an old volume of Great Expectations, but had hit a stopping point and decided to put it away for the time being. Crowley was due to arrive in a few minutes so they could go to their weekly lunch date, and Aziraphale was excited. But that was nothing new - he was _always_ excited about all his dates with Crowley. 

Things were progressing well between them over the last ten days, and Aziraphale was pleased. They’d been on their regular dates - to lunch last Wednesday and to dinner and a play on Sunday night - and Crowley had held his hand as much as was possible. It made Aziraphale’s heart skip a beat every time they touched, and it made him feel so _proud_ to be with him. He was so utterly enamored of Crowley. Truly, he’d never felt this way before about any other man. It had only been a month - a month today, actually - but Aziraphale knew that Crowley was something special, and was certain he was falling in love. It was dizzying, in the best possible way. 

Tracy and Newt were standing at the counter talking when Aziraphale approached, and he smiled when he saw his friends. 

“How has it been today?” he asked when he got to them. 

“Typical Wednesday,” Newt said. 

“Yeah, there haven’t been many customers.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I hate to leave you two here when we’re busy,” he said. 

“So where are you going today?” Tracy asked. 

“I’m not sure. We haven’t discussed it. I suppose whatever he’s in the mood for.” 

“Where are you going for your Sunday date?”

“I’m not sure about that, either. We’re supposed to go to a concert soon, but he hasn’t given me a date.”

“What kind of concert?”

“A small one, somewhere here in town. Crowley wanted to take me so he could ease me into listening to his music.”

“You haven’t listened to his music yet?” Newt asked incredulously. 

“I have not. He asked me not to and I’d like to respect his wishes.”

“Why would he ask you not to listen to his music?”

“He has the misguided notion that my opinion of him will change when I hear his music.”

“Why on earth would he think _that_?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. It’s not like his music glorifies drugs or violence or murder… does it?” he asked, uncertain. 

“Oh, no,” they said in unison. “Nothing of the sort.” Then Tracy took the lead. “From what I’ve heard, most of his music is social commentary.”

“With the occasional love song thrown in,” Newt volunteered. 

“What’s his music _like_?” Aziraphale asked, pushing aside the stab of jealousy he felt. Crowley had been on this earth for forty-one years before he met Aziraphale, and had probably been in love at least a few times. It was only logical that he wrote songs about those people. Really, it was silly of him to think otherwise. He brushed the jealousy away as best he could. 

“I don’t quite know how to describe it,” Newt said, looking to Tracy for reassurance. 

“It’s radio-friendly rock,” Tracy supplied. 

“Yeah. Like the Chainsmokers or something.”

“Who?” Aziraphale asked, looking confused, feeling lost.

“Er, nevermind,” Newt said, looking sheepish. 

Aziraphale sighed. “Perhaps I should consider expanding my musical palate.”

“It might not hurt,” Tracy said. 

“I guess I could start by changing the spotty-thing radio station in the back room to one of the current hits stations, couldn’t I?”

“That would be a start.”

“Very well. I’ll change it when I get back from lunch.”

“I could change it for you,” Newt offered. “I know a couple of good playlists.”

“Would you?” Aziraphale asked, relieved. “Thank you, my dear boy.”

“So…” Tracy said in a sly voice that told him she was about to pry. “What’s it like, dating a celebrity? Is it what we imagined?”

“Well, so far, it's like dating any other chap,” he said, even as his brain scoffed at him for calling Crowley ‘any other chap’. Celebrity or no, Crowley was _far_ from ordinary.

“Oh, come on,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his, teasingly. “Surely there must be _some_ difference.”

“Not much, not so far. His stories are a bit more interesting, I suppose.”

They both scoffed, and Tracy muttered, “I bet so, after spending three years with the king of the dullards.”

Out of habit, Aziraphale pursed his lips at her for a split second before he caught himself. “Yes, well, I have to admit that no one else I’ve ever dated has led quite so _exciting_ a life.”

“Is it true that he had a fling with Russell Crowe?” she asked in a rush, as if she’d been dying to do so for weeks. 

Newt surprised him when he jumped in on the conversation, asking “Or Britney Spears?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it true he practices kabbalah, like Madonna?”

“I heard he’s Wiccan,” Newt supplied. 

“I don’t think so. We’ve never discussed religion, really, but you know that doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is that he’s a good person and an upstanding citizen. As for the rest, he’s asked me to avoid gossip about him, and I’m happy to do so.”

“Is it true that he’s vegan?”

“No, most assuredly not,” Aziraphale said, pleased to be able to answer at least _one_ question. “I’ve seen him eat cheese and meat.”

“Is it true that he’s partied with the Rolling Stones?”

“Now you’re back to gossip and things I know nothing about.”

“Is it true that he was a finalist for Sexiest Man Alive?” Newt asked. 

“Oh, yes,” Tracy supplied. “That one is true. I read the article.”

“Yes, well, I can see why he’d be honored in that way,” Aziraphale said, fighting a blush. 

“That leads me to another question…”

“Go ahead, but I probably won’t know the answer to that, either, if it’s gossipy.”

“All these photos of him… is he that sexy in real life, or are they photoshopped?”

“Why are you asking me? You’ve _seen_ him in real life.”

“I meant naked.”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat immediately. “I wouldn’t know.”

“What do you mean you wouldn’t know? Haven’t you _seen_ by now?”

He squared his shoulders as best he was able. “Not that it’s any of your business, but _no_. I haven’t.” 

“Why not? Were the lights off?”

Aziraphale’s face and ears were _flaming_. “Once again, it's not your business, but we haven’t so much as kissed.”

Newt and Tracy were both looking at him, wide eyed. “You _haven’t_?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Why the hell not?” Tracy demanded. “It’s been a month!”

“You _know_ I’m just getting out of a relationship…”

“Yeah, a relationship you were trying to get out of for _months_ before it ended.”

Aziraphale had no defense to that. It was true. So he said, “Be that as it may, we decided to take our time dating, to ease into it, in large part because I’m so fresh out of a long term relationship.”

The bells on the door rang and they all looked up. Aziraphale was hoping it would be Crowley, but it wasn’t, it was a kindly-looking elderly woman. 

“I’ve got her,” Newt said. “You two talk.”

Aziraphale really didn’t want to continue the current conversation, but before he could protest or make an excuse, Newt was gone. 

“Can I offer you some advice, dear? Some serious, genuine advice?” Tracy said behind him, and he had to fight the urge to sigh. He plastered a smile on and turned back to her.

“I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me anyway.”

“You’re right. I am,” she said, looking determined. 

“Very well. What is it?”

“I wouldn’t drag my feet too much with Crowley, if I were you.”

“I’m not _dragging my feet_. I’m just being cautious.”

“Why?”

“Because I leapt into my last relationship, with Gabriel, and we all saw how _that_ went.”

“Crowley is _nothing_ like Gabriel, dear, and you know that. They’re completely different men, as far away from each other as the east is from the west. But more than that, your _reaction_ to Crowley is also wildly different. You were _never_ this smitten with Gabriel, not even in the beginning. Your aura practically _sparkles_ when you’re near Crowley. Surely you can feel the difference for yourself?”

Aziraphale could, he absolutely could. He knew that he’d never felt this way about Gabriel - or anyone _else_ he’d ever dated. Whatever he’d felt for Gabriel was miles and miles different.

“I know that,” he acknowledged. “I really do.” Then he sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think I’m going to be able to take it slow much longer. I’m mad about him.”

 _Understatement,_ his brain chided. 

Tracy smiled gently. “Yes, I can tell.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is to me, and probably Newt.”

“Well, it’s true. I think I’m falling for him.”

“Good. Let yourself fall. Every indicator says that it’s going to be a successful relationship.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me guess. The stars say?”

“Yes. I ran a compatibility chart on you, and everything looked _very_ good. But I’ve also consulted the cards.”

“And what did the cards say, pray tell?” he asked, hoping to keep _most_ of the sarcasm out of his voice. 

“They say the same thing as the stars: It’s possible for the two of you to be in a long term, happy and healthy relationship, but you’re going to have to deal with outside forces that would seek to tear you apart.”

“I assume you mean the press?”

“I don’t know. The stars and cards aren’t quite that specific. I assume so.”

Newt came back to the counter. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing, just me telling Aziraphale not to take it too slow.”

“Oh, yeah, I agree.”

“And what might _your_ reasoning be?” Aziraphale asked, weary. 

“Well, the chase is only fun for so long. If I’m interested in a girl and she plays hard to get, that can be exciting for a little while, but after a time, I start to think that maybe she’s not interested in me and only stringing me along.”

Aziraphale had never thought of it like that, and it made sense. He was surprised to get such thoughtful advice from _Newt_ , of all people, but couldn’t help but think that his advice was more solid than Tracy’s. It was definitely food for thought. 

“Thank you both very much. I appreciate your care and concern for me, and I’ll take your words under advisement,” he said, as diplomatically as he could. 

Tracy patted him on the arm. “I hope you do, dear. We both just want you to be happy.”

“I know that, and I love you for it. Truly. Thank you both.”

The bells over the door jingled again and Aziraphale looked up hopefully. His face split into a huge smile when he saw Crowley holding the door for the old woman from a few minutes ago, then sauntering across the floor, his mouth quirked in that easy way Aziraphale loved. It made his heart flutter pleasantly. 

“Hiya, angel,” Crowley said. 

“Hello yourself,” Aziraphale said with a grin. 

They just stood there for a moment, gazing at each other, until Crowley seemed to shake himself and turned to the others. “Hello, Newt. Tracy. How are you?”

“Oh, we’re quite well. How are you?”

“I’m peachy keen,” he said, still smiling. 

“Are you ready to go, dear?” Aziraphale asked before Tracy or Newt could say something potentially embarrassing.

“I’m ready when you are,” Crowley said, his smile growing when he looked at Aziraphale. 

“I’ll be back in about an hour. You two hold down the fort until I return. Alright?”

“You got it, boss,” Newt said. 

“Don’t hurry back,” Tracy replied with a smile. Aziraphale turned to leave and Tracy called out to his retreating back, “And think about what I said!”

Aziraphale cut his eyes at her, although he didn't say anything. He just gave Crowley a smile as he opened the door for them. 

Once they were on the pavement, he turned to look at Crowley. “Hi,” he said, almost nervous. 

“Hi,” Crowley said, smiling back at him. 

Aziraphale just stood there and smiled at him for a minute, lost in his thoughts, a blissful look on his face until he shook himself. 

“Oh, sorry. Um, where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere, really.”

“Are you craving anything?”

“I’m not really all that hungry.”

“I’m not either, actually, but I should eat.”

Crowley glanced over his shoulder. “It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t we go to the park? We could get some food from a vendor there, if you wanted.” 

“I think that sounds lovely.”

“C’mon, angel,” Crowley said, and reached for his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

Aziraphale took his hand, threading their fingers, his heart trilling in his chest. He couldn’t help the adoring gaze he gave Crowley. Oh, heavens. He really was teetering on the brink of falling into love. It wouldn’t be long. 

They started down the pavement towards the park, hand in hand, both of them smiling brightly. Aziraphale wasn’t sure he’d ever been so happy as he was right then, holding Crowley’s hand on a pretty spring afternoon. He wished he could capture this feeling and bottle it. He’d make millions. 

As they walked, he wondered a bit about what Tracy and Newt had said. Should he move things along a bit? He wanted to, very much, but he also wanted to do things _right_. And to be honest, what he’d told Tracy was true - he _was_ falling in love and didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep himself from diving headfirst into Crowley. He wanted more. He _craved_ more. Tracy was right, he _was_ over Gabriel, and had been for a while. There was no reason to hold himself back, except that it somehow felt right to do. But with every moment he spent with Crowley, it felt _less_ right. 

“How’s your day been?” Crowley asked, breaking into his thoughts. 

“Oh, it's been very nice so far. I’ve been holed up in the back room, working on a book.”

“What book?”

“Great Expectations.”

“Care to tell me more about it?”

“I don’t want to bore you…”

“It won’t bore me. If it interests you, it interests me.”

Aziraphale flushed, pleased. “There’s not much to tell, really. It didn’t need too much work. I’ll probably finish it today.”

“And add it to your hoard?” Crowley asked, grinning mischievously. 

Aziraphale gave him a mock reproving look, belied by the quirk of his lips. “Cheeky. No, actually, I think I’ll sell this one, if the opportunity arises.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m just not much of a Dickens fan. He’s a brilliant writer, of course, but he wasn’t a very nice man. Especially to his poor wife.”

“What did he do?”

“He had a torrid affair and left her, which was bad enough. But then, as if to add salt to her wound, he spent the remainder of their lives on something of a smear campaign against her.”

“He sounds like a real prick,” Crowley said with distaste.

“Yes, he was, at least to her. His writing is wonderful, but I have difficulties getting past it.”

“No, being a good artist doesn’t make up for being a shitty person. Not to me.”

“Nor to me, hence why I’m not a fan.”

“I know. Sorry. I just get frustrated with some celebrities who are revered for being great people but are completely fucking different behind the scenes. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I loathe people who aren’t genuine.”

“Oh, me, too.”

Crowley squeezed his hand. “That’s one reason I asked you not to google me. I wanted you to get to know the genuine me. Not the version of me people _think_ they know.”

“I’m so glad you did, dear. I’ve very much enjoyed getting to know the real you.”

The red haired man just smiled at him and Aziraphale smiled back, besotted and foolish. He felt himself teeter just a bit more. 

They came to the entrance of St. James Park, and Crowley spotted a vendor selling food. They walked over and ordered a sandwich, crisps, and a soft drink for each of them, then took their food into the park to find a place to sit. 

There was a bench near the duck pond and they claimed it quickly, before someone else could. They ate their meal, chatting lightly about nothing and everything, halfheartedly fending off the ducks. After they finished their food, Crowley gathered the rubbish and took it to the bin. When he returned, he had two small bags of peas. 

“I figured the ducks should get a lunch, too,” he said with a grin, offering one to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale beamed at him. “That’s a lovely idea, Crowley. Thank you.”

Crowley handed him the bag, and their fingers brushed in the exchange. Aziraphale felt the reverberations all the way up his arm. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was _already_ in love.

The ducks were eager when they realized there was food again, and Aziraphale and Crowley tossed out peas for a few minutes, laughing with each other about the ducks’ greedy behavior. When they were done, Crowley took the empty bags, balled them up, sat them beside his leg, then reached over to take Aziraphale's hand again. Something inside Aziraphale sighed with relief when they touched, and he suddenly realized that yes, he _was_ in love. Head over heels. The thought was exhilarating, and he couldn’t wipe a smile from his face. 

“Oh, I meant to tell you. I found us a show to go to.”

“Oh? You did?”

“Yes, next Thursday. A week from tomorrow. Would you be willing? Or able?”

“Of course I would, dear.”

“Even though it’ll mean we’ll see each other on an extra date next week?” he asked, sounding unsure. 

Aziraphale smiled at him. “I think having an extra date will be the highlight of my week.” 

Crowley looked pleased, and Aziraphale squeezed his hand. 

“Tell me about the show. Who is it? And where?”

“His name is Andrew Harris, and he’s a singer/songwriter. The show is in Covent Garden.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, but Beezle does. I’ve heard his music, though. He’s good.”

“Well, I’m very much looking forward to it. It’ll be a nice adventure for me.”

Crowley grinned at him, and Aziraphale marveled to himself. _I’m in love with him._ The thought sent a thrill all through him. 

“I do have bad news, though,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale’s face fell. “Oh, no. What?”

“I have to fly to New York for an awards show in two weeks. I’ll be gone the whole weekend, so I’ll miss our Sunday date.”

“That’s okay,” Aziraphale said, relieved. “We can just have a makeup date. Maybe two of them - one before you go and one when you get back.”

“Yeah?” Crowley said, his smile growing.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, returning his smile. “I imagine this won’t be the only time something like this happens. We’ll probably have to have lots of makeup dates.”

“I’m going to have to go out of town every now and then, yes, but…”

He paused and Aziraphale gave him a curious look. “But what, dear?”

Crowley wouldn’t meet his eye. “I’m hoping that soon, I’ll be able to take you with me. That you’ll be my date to things like this. I’m really looking forward to showing you off on the red carpet. If you’re willing.”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to conduct myself on a red carpet,” Aziraphale said. “I’d be totally lost.”

“I can teach you everything you need to know… if you’re willing to go with me.”

Aziraphale only had to think for a second before he said, “I think, as long as you’re willing to teach me and hold my hand, I’d be willing to do anything for you.”

Crowley’s face bloomed into a smile and Aziraphale wanted to kiss him so badly. So, so badly. Why was he refraining? He couldn’t remember anymore.

“Hey, angel?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“Are you still donating to charities? Like the one you met me doing?”

“Well, yes, when I run up on something I feel strongly about.”

“Will you do me a favor?”

 _Anything_ , he wanted to say. _I’ll do anything for you_.

“What’s that, dear?”

“Will you _not_ enter any more contests to win a date with someone? I think I’d like to keep you all to myself.”

Aziraphale grinned at him. “That won’t be a problem. I have no _desire_ to date anyone else.”

“Good,” Crowley said, squeezing his hand. “That’s the best fucking news I’ve ever heard.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved every second of writing this story. It was one of the most enjoyable things I've ever written, and it's hard for me to pick favorite chapter. But this one is definitely up at the tippy-top of favorites.

_Thursday, 20 May_

Crowley was a bundle of nerves as he drove to Soho to pick up Aziraphale on Thursday night. His palms were sweaty and it felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. Honestly, it felt very much like stage fright, which Crowley guessed made sense - although this was the opposite of a performance. He was letting Aziraphale into his world, revealing a bit more of himself, and he was terribly anxious about what his angel would think. There was a part of him that didn’t want to go through with this, that wanted to keep Aziraphale cocooned for as long as he could. But he knew that if they were going to be in a relationship - which was all Crowley wanted in the world - he was going to have to let Aziraphale in sooner rather than later. He might as well do it now. It would be fine, he thought. He knew cognitively that even if Aziraphale _didn’t_ enjoy his music, that was unlikely to affect his feelings about _Crowley_. He knew that, yet he couldn’t shake his anxiety about that very thing.

His brain was a real arsehole sometimes.

There was a spot open when he arrived at Aziraphale’s shop, so he whipped his Bentley in, then bounded up the stairs to Aziraphale’s flat before he lost his nerve. He was barely refraining from trembling when he knocked on the door. 

“Coming!” called Aziraphale from the other side, then it swung open to reveal him. Crowley felt his knees weaken at the sight. _Fuck_ , he was just so beautiful, and Crowley loved him so much…

“Hiya, angel,” he said before he said something stupid. 

“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale replied with a brilliant smile. “How do I look?”

Crowley let his gaze rake over Aziraphale from head to toe. He was wearing his usual kit, a waistcoat and rolled up shirtsleeves, but _God_ , he looked so good. Crowley had a heated exchange between his brain and his cock when it tried to stir. 

“You look fucking amazing,” he said, completey sincerely. 

Aziraphale flushed. “Oh, stop.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“I am.”

Crowley turned and offered his arm. “Come on, then, angel.”

~*~O~*~

Ten minutes later they were holding hands, strolling the pavement, headed towards Covent Garden. Crowley was overflowing with excitement, and couldn’t help but smile foolishly.

“Is there anything I need to know before we get there?” Aziraphale asked. “Etiquette or anything?”

“No, I can’t think of anything. Except…”

“Except what, dear?”

“Well, Beezle found out I was coming to this show, and they suspected I was bringing you. I’m thinking they might _accidentally_ show up.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Oh! So I’ll get to meet Beezle?”

“You’d like to?” Crowley asked, frankly amazed. 

“Yes, very much. You speak so highly of them, and I’d like to meet your closest friend.”

Crowley relaxed just a bit. Aziraphale didn't seem upset. Thank _Christ_ for that. 

“Thank you, angel.”

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me. I’m quite excited,” he said with a wiggle. 

“I should probably warn you about them.”

“What about them?”

“Bee can be… abrasive. Blunt. Off-putting. I don’t think that will be anything you have to worry about because they’re _very_ excited to meet you. And once they like you, they’re the nicest arsehole you’d ever want to meet. But I wanted you to be aware in case they’re rude to someone else or something in front of you.”

“Alright, I can deal with that. Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, don’t use gendered pronouns.”

“Noted. And thank you for the tip. Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of. I think you’re going to like them…. and I _know_ they’re going to like you.”

“I do hope so.”

Some of Crowley’s nerves melted away. This would be fine. He knew it would. 

“May I ask you something, dear?”

“Of course, angel.”

“I noticed you don't have your tattoo covered tonight…”

“Ah. Yeah. That was intentional.”

“Are you hoping to be recognized?”

“Not hoping, no. I’m still trying to keep a low profile. But the chances I’m going to be recognized are slightly higher in an environment like this.” 

“Will that be a problem? Are you going to be mobbed or something?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Worst case scenario, I’ll have to pose for a few photos or something. It’s a small, laid back venue. I just might have to pay attention to someone besides you for a few minutes, and that’ll be the worst part.” 

“I think I could survive that,” Aziraphale said, smiling coyly. “I’m quite excited about all of this, honestly. I’m so happy that you’re letting me into this part of your life.”

“I just hope it doesn’t scare you off.”

“I don’t think anything possibly could, darling.”

Crowley rode the high of that reassurance - and being called ‘darling’ - all the way to the club.

~*~O~*~

Crowley knew from multiple experiences that the time he was most likely to be recognized was before they even made it into the club, when they were in the line at the door. If he were alone or with pretty much anyone else, he would simply pull clout and skip the line, but he couldn’t decide whether that would impress Aziraphale or turn him off. He very much wanted to get everything _right_.

It turned out that all his fretting was for nothing, though: when they arrived at the door of the club, there was only a short line. Crowley happily got into it, still holding Aziraphale’s hand. When they got to the doorman, both of them presented their ID and Crowley paid the cover charge. He didn’t miss the way the doorman’s eyes widened when he saw the name on his ID, and made a subtle ‘shh’ gesture. The doorman nodded, then opened the door. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”

Crowley retook Aziraphale’s hand with a smile and stepped inside.

He had never been to this club before, but he’d been to dozens and dozens just like it. It was dimly lit, with a stage at the front of the room and a well stocked bar to the right. It wasn’t very crowded, which Crowley was grateful for, and only about half of the tables were occupied. Aziraphale was looking around with wide-eyed wonder, like a child in a sweet shop, and it made Crowley smile. 

“Can I buy you a drink, angel? Then we’ll get a table.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s do that.”

They went to the bar, and Crowley released his hand reluctantly when they got there. The bartender was busy, and they chatted as they waited patiently for her to notice them. 

Crowley spotted a man at the end of the bar looking down towards them, and thought for a moment that he’d been recognized. He realized soon, though, that the man was looking at _Aziraphale_ , and the relief he felt immediately gave way to jealousy. But Crowley didn’t say anything. Hopefully, Aziraphale wouldn’t even notice. 

They ordered their drinks - wine for Aziraphale and a scotch for Crowley - and there was a short debate about who would pay. Crowley prevailed, and they went to find a table, drinks in hand. Once they were seated, Crowley watched Aziraphale with some amusement from behind his glasses. The angel was still looking around as if he were enthralled, and it was utterly enchanting. 

Aziraphale took a sip of his wine, and when he sat the glass down, there was a small drop on his lip. Crowley wanted to taste it, to lick it away, and his heart nearly stopped when Aziraphale’s pink tongue darted out and cleaned it up. _Jesus._

From the corner of his eye, he could see the man who had been watching Aziraphale. He still had his eyes locked on Crowley’s angel, and Crowley glared at him, even though he knew the man wouldn’t see.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m fine,” Crowley said brightly, snapping out of it. “I’m just fine.”

Aziraphale took another sip of his wine. “So you must have played a lot of places like this one.”

“I did, yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Most nights, I did. There’s a certain intimacy to playing in small places like this that you don’t get when you play arenas. The energy is different.”

“Is the energy _better_?”

“No, not really. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just… different. I love playing arenas, but I do miss playing the small clubs sometimes.”

“Perhaps you could come back to play clubs like this every now and then.”

“Maybe. Would you come see me if I did?”

Aziraphale grinned coyly. “I’d be the first in line, darling.”

 _Darling_. He’d said it again. Crowley’s heart thudded.

Then he caught sight of the arsehole eyeshagging Aziraphale again, and the smile slid off his face. Crowley wanted to do something to show the other man that Aziraphale was taken, but he couldn’t think of what to do that wouldn’t terrify or offend Aziraphale. 

“You’re making that face again,” Aziraphale said. “The angry one. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, angel.”

“Who are you looking at that way?” he asked, looking around the room. 

Crowley sighed to himself. Looked like the gig was up…

“There’s a man at the bar who keeps looking at you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s not. He’s probably looking at you.”

“No, I’m sure of it. He’s looking at you. He’s _eyefucking_ you, and I don’t like it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “Crowley… are you _jealous_?”

“I - yeah. I am, a bit,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Well, there’s no need to be. I’m here with you, and I’m not interested in him at all.”

Crowley was soothed to hear that, but not entirely. “I know, but… well, it's only fair for me to tell you that I can be a jealous bloke sometimes. Not terribly,” he rushed to say. “I’m not a possessive nutjob or anything. Just… sometimes, I’m attacked by the green-eyed monster.”

“Thank you for telling me that. I don’t mind a bit of jealousy - it actually makes me feel good, sometimes - but I _will_ ask you to _tell me_ when you’re feeling that way, so I can reassure you. You have nothing to be jealous of with me. I’m very loyal.”

“I never doubted you would be,” Crowley said, giving him a smile. 

“Excuse me, sir?” a waitress said, approaching the table, speaking to Aziraphale. “This glass of wine is for you, with the gentleman’s compliments.”

Crowley _fumed_ , but Aziraphale held up a hand and gave her a smile. “No, thank you, dear. Please return it to him and let him know I’m spoken for.”

He barely had time to react before Aziraphale had turned away from the waitress and the refused drink and covered Crowley’s hand with his. Crowley’s heart soared, and he loved this angel so much he thought he’d burst. His smile was so big it almost hurt, but he couldn’t help it. He shifted a bit so they were holding hands properly. 

When the waitress left, he said, “So you’re spoken for?”

Aziraphale gave him a sly smile. “I like to consider myself so, yes. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not. It’s very, very right. You’re taken.”

“Good.”

 _Fuck_ , he was so in love.

They were still holding hands a few minutes later, sipping their drinks and chatting lightly, when Crowley heard, “Hello, arsehole.”

“Bee!” he said, getting to his feet to greet them, releasing Aziraphale’s hand for the moment. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said as Aziraphale got to his feet, too.

“I told you I might stop by. And this must be Aziraphale,” they said, turning to Aziraphale, giving him an appraising look with their beetle black eyes. 

“Yes. Beezle, this is Aziraphale Fell. Aziraphale, this is my friend, Beezle Prince.”

“I’m simply charmed to meet you,” Aziraphale said, shaking Bee’s hand. 

“Likewise. I've heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope?”

“I don’t think Crowley could say a negative thing about you if he tried. He’s completely smitten.”

“Alright,” Crowley cut in, before Beezle could say anything else. Their eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“Would you like to join us?” Aziraphale asked politely. 

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?”

Crowley wanted to say yes, that they would very much be in the way, but Aziraphale said, “Not at all. I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

“Then I’d love to,” Bee said, and Crowley bit back a sigh. They all sat down, and Crowley waved over the waitress to order more drinks. As soon as his hand was free, Aziraphale covered it again, and Crowley couldn’t help a besotted smile. He didn’t miss Beezle’s raised eyebrows. 

They sipped drinks while Beezle and Aziraphale made small talk, getting to know one another better. To Crowley’s relief, Bee seemed to be on their best behavior, and was polite to Aziraphale - as polite as they ever were. 

“So Crowley tells me that you’re a bookseller.”

“I am, yes.”

“In Soho?”

“Yes. I’ve had a shop there for the last eighteen years.”

“He also said that you’re interested in rare books?”

Aziraphale looked surprised but pleased. “My, he _has_ talked about me a fair amount.”

Before Crowley could stop them, Bee said, “A fair amount, my arse. He won’t _shut up_ about you. But it’s nice to see him so happy, I guess.”

Crowley’s cheeks were burning, but Aziraphale looked pleased. 

“So, Crowley tells me you know the musician we’re about to see? Andrew Harris?”

“I do, yes. I met Drew when we did some studio work together a couple of years ago. He’s an excellent musician.”

“I’m very much looking forward to hearing him,” Aziraphale said excitedly. “This is my first concert.”

“It is?”

“Yes. Well, my first rock concert, anyway. I’ve been to see the symphony a time or two.”

“I hope you enjoy it. Drew will be pleased to know that he was your first concert.”

Aziraphale looked to be ready to speak again, but before he could, the lights dimmed and the spotlight came up on the stage a few feet away. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Electric Banana is proud to present - Andrew Harris!”

Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s hand so they could clap politely along with the rest of the crowd as the young man came out on the stage. As soon as the applause died down, he reached for Aziraphale’s hand again, and once again, he didn’t miss Bee’s smirk in his direction. He barely resisted the urge to flick two fingers at them. 

Andrew Harris talked a bit as he strapped on his acoustic guitar and adjusted his mic, warming up the crowd. Aziraphale enjoyed the small jokes he told, making Crowley smile, and after introducing his first song, Andrew started to play. 

Crowley watched Aziraphale closely for his reaction, but just as he’d been with the busker, Aziraphale looked entranced. His eyes were wide as he looked at the musician, and there was a small smile on his gorgeous face. Crowley got the distinct impression that had he known the song, he’d have been singing along. Suddenly, Crowley wanted to hear Aziraphale sing. He’d bet he sounded like an angel. 

When the song ended, Aziraphale released his hand to applaud, and Crowley clapped, too. He was relieved, though, when Aziraphale reached for his hand again as the next song started. 

Crowley watched him for the next few songs, his eyes glued to Aziraphale’s beautiful face, reveling in how stunning he was. If there had ever been any doubt, it was erased in that time. Crowley was in love, absolutely in love, more deeply and more fully than he’d ever been in his life. It was very, very early, but Crowley had never been so sure about anything. His love was a fact, as true as the Earth being round or the sun rising in the east. 

While the musician played and Aziraphale watched him, Crowley pondered how and when to tell Aziraphale how he felt.

~*~O~*~

The house lights came up as soon as Andrew left the stage, while the crowd was still clapping. Crowley was surprised when Aziraphale got to his feet to give a standing ovation. He couldn’t help but smile as he stood to join him, seeing lots of other people do the same.

“Did you have fun, angel?” Crowley asked when the applause died. 

“That was simply _wonderful_. I loved every second of it.”

“Would you like to meet him?” Beezle asked, also smiling. 

“Oh, could I? Would that be possible?”

“Of course. I’ll be happy to take you backstage.”

“Just let me settle the check and we can go, angel,” Crowley said. 

“Oh, how exciting!”

Crowley chuckled to himself as he called over the waitress to pay the tab, picking up Beezle’s drinks as well. Why not? He was feeling generous.

Once the tab was paid he took Aziraphale’s hand and they started towards the backstage area with Bee. They were initially denied entry, but thankfully the bouncer recognized Crowley and let them in. Aziraphale looked suitably impressed.

The door to the green room was ajar when they arrived, but Beezle knocked on it anyway. “Knock, knock, fucker. Can we come in?”

Andrew looked up from where he was putting his guitar in a case. “Bee! Yes, of course! So good to see you. And you brought -” He froze and his eyes went wide, his face losing color. “Bloody hell, you brought _Crowley_.”

Crowley put on his most disarming smile and released Aziraphale’s hand long enough to step forward, extending his hand. “Hi. I’m Crowley.”

“Yes, you are,” Andrew said, eyes still wide. “Were you in the crowd tonight?”

Crowley stepped back to Aziraphale and took his hand again, still smiling. “I was, yes. You put on a good show. You’re very talented.”

“Thank you. Oh, my girlfriend is just going to be _sick_ with envy when I tell her about this!”

“She’s not missing much,” Beezle groused good naturedly. “Drew, I’d also like you to meet Aziraphale. Tonight was his first concert.”

“Blimey, your first ever?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said excitedly, shaking his hand. “I very much enjoyed the show, Andrew. Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad your first experience was a positive one.”

The four of them chatted for a few minutes, Andrew gazing starstruck at Crowley, and Aziraphale looking starstruck at both of them. When security came back to tell Andrew that he had to be out of the green room in fifteen minutes, Crowley posed for a picture with him, then he, Aziraphale, and Beezle wished him a good night and made their way out of the club. Crowley was relieved that Aziraphale never let go of his hand. 

“Well, Aziraphale,” Beezle said as soon as they got out to the pavement at the front of the club. “I have to say, I have no idea what you see in this arsehole, but I’m glad you do. It was lovely to meet you. I hope to see you around more.”

“Oh, yes. It was lovely to meet you, too, Beezle. I do hope I see you again sometime.”

“I'm sure you’ll run into each other,” Crowley said, hoping to head Beezle off at the pass. 

“Yes, we’ll definitely do this again,” Bee said. 

“Soon, I hope,” Aziraphale said, still smiling.

“Yes, soon. Well, thank you for a lovely evening. You two enjoy the rest of your night.”

Then with a tip of an imaginary hat, they were gone. Crowley and Aziraphale watched them go for a moment, then started walking in the opposite direction, towards his shop. 

“Did you have a good time tonight, angel?”

“Oh, I _did_. I had expected to have fun, but I didn’t expect to enjoy the show as much as I did. Are all concerts like this?”

“Well, every show is a bit different, but there are concerts similar to this in small clubs literally every night in London. Would you like to do it again sometime?”

“I’d love to!”

“Then we will,” Crowley said, smiling. “We’ll go to shows like this every now and then and tell ourselves we're supporting the arts.”

Aziraphale giggled, and Crowley grinned at him. He was too happy to do anything else. 

A few steps later, Aziraphale said, “Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Would you consider letting me listen to _your_ music now? I could look it up on that spotty thing Newt installed in the back room.”

“Spotify.”

“Yes, that. Please do let me listen to your songs, dear. I very much want to, and I promise it won’t change my opinion of you. I just know I’m going to love your music.”

Feeling a little wicked - and shy - Crowley said, “I’d rather you didn't look me up on Spotify just yet.”

Aziraphale looked crestfallen. “But dear…”

“Instead, I’d like to play for you. If you’re willing.”

“You’d like to play for me?”

“Yes. Your own private concert. I told you I have a bit of a jealous streak, and I have to admit, I want you to look at _me_ the way you were looking at Andrew all night.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I’d _love_ to. We could have our Sunday date at your place this week.”

“You’d do that?”

“I would, but only on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to kiss me tonight.”

Crowley stumbled on air. He caught himself and recovered, but the motion had pulled them to a stop on the pavement. Crowley didn’t care, he just looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes. 

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, looking mischievous. 

“I’m fine. I just thought you said --”

“I said I’d like you to kiss me tonight. Would you be willing?”

“Ngk,” said Crowley. 

“Is that a no?” Aziraphale teased. 

“No, it’s not a no. It’s absolutely _not_ a no. But are you sure? Because once I kiss you, I know I’m going to want to do it over and over and over for as long as you’ll let me.” _For the rest of my life_.

“That’s good to hear. I feel very much the same. Kiss me, darling, please.”

Crowley reached up to touch the side of his face, caressing his cheek, and leaned in to kiss his angel’s smile. He pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s softly, just the barest touch, but it was enough to send a jolt through his entire body. He gasped a little from the powerful sensation, unlike anything he’d ever felt, and was gratified that Aziraphale did the same. Crowley opened his eyes to look at him, wanting to see him in that moment. 

Aziraphale’s eyes had fluttered closed, his cheek leaning into his hand, and his soft lips were parted just a little. Crowley would have been proud of the effect he was having on him, but kissing Aziraphale breathless was a better use of his time, so he set about to do that. 

His second kiss was slightly firmer, slightly more sure of itself, but no less perfect or powerful. Crowley slid his lips along Aziraphale’s, letting them tell him everything he was too much of a coward to say out loud. 

Aziraphale let go of the hand he’d been holding and put both hands on Crowley’s sides tentatively. Crowley responded by winding his arms around Aziraphale and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He tasted like heaven, like the embodiment of every good thing, and Crowley couldn’t get enough. His heart was pounding in his chest, his blood was roaring in his ears, and all he could think of was that he’d never known a moment more perfect. This was what he was meant to do. This was his life’s calling. He was supposed to love Aziraphale for the rest of his existence. 

The second kiss blended into a third, then a fourth, the two of them parting only long enough to come back together. Crowley had no idea how long they stood there, kissing on the pavement in the middle of Covent Garden, but he didn’t give a fuck, either. He just needed this moment to go on forever. 

But eventually, he did gentle the kiss, withdrawing himself, making Aziraphale whimper in displeasure. He softened the loss with a couple of light kisses to the angel’s sweet mouth. Crowley opened his eyes to look at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open to look at him, too. Crowley loved him so much he thought he may die of it in that moment, and hardly refrained from telling him. 

“Wow,” Aziraphale said, a small smile on his kiss-swollen lips. 

“I was right,” Crowley said. 

“About what?”

“Kissing you is the best thing I’ve ever done and I want to do it over and over again forever.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I want that, too. Forever.”

“No kiss has ever made me feel like this, sweetheart,” he confessed, baring his soul more than was probably wise. “No _person_ has ever made me feel like this before.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. It means I’m not alone in the way I feel about you.”

Crowley was so close to telling him, so very, very close, but he just managed to refrain. He wanted to construct a moment, not blurt it out. 

So he kissed Aziraphale one more time, softly, sweetly, then withdrew from his embrace, retaking his hand. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you home. You have work tomorrow.”

“Will you kiss me goodnight when we get there?” Aziraphale asked with one corner of his mouth quirked up. 

“Just try and stop me.”

“I would never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that The Pact has finished, we're going back to my usual Monday/Thursday posting schedule... starting tomorrow. Meaning that you'll get an update in your inbox tomorrow morning, and then another one on Monday. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love you've shown this story!!


	10. Chapter 10

_Sunday, 23 May_

Crowley was puttering around his flat anxiously late on Sunday afternoon, waiting for Aziraphale. His angel wasn’t set to arrive for another hour and a half, but Crowley was on pins and needles already. This would be the first time Aziraphale was coming to his home, and he was _excited_. It felt like a _moment_ to him, like a milestone, and really, it was. He was opening up to Aziraphale just that much more. He couldn’t wait to open himself completely. Honestly, he thought it would be soon. 

He hadn’t seen Aziraphale since Thursday night, but their texting had increased - and changed a bit. Their flirting was more overt and they signed their texts with kisses now. They’d also talked on the phone for the first time on Friday night, then again on Saturday night, after Aziraphale had got home from work. Crowley had felt like a teenager in those calls, smiling, staring off into space, talking about nothing and everything. It had been a struggle to hang up - he’d have been happy to talk to his love all night. But he’d managed. Then he’d found himself chasing pleasure in his fist, his mind full of Aziraphale, both nights. To be perfectly honest, he’d touched himself so much since he’d met Aziraphale, it was starting to be a problem. Even now, he was fighting an erection. It seemed that was his default state, lately. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, he tried to focus on the evening at hand. The catering had been ordered and would be arriving shortly after Aziraphale. He’d tuned his favorite guitar and it was waiting in the lounge. He’d neatened as best he could, which wasn’t too difficult, considering his flat was minimally decorated. He’d even misted his plants, so they would be glistening when Aziraphale saw them. He’d done everything he could do. 

Bloody hell. He couldn’t tell if he was more anxious or excited.

He wondered about how and when to tell Aziraphale he loved him. It was a fact, the truest thing he knew, but he was completely undecided about revealing that to Aziraphale. He _thought_ Aziraphale felt the same, he was nearly sure, but Aziraphale had wanted to take things so slow. Would he be rushing him by revealing how he felt? To be honest, Crowley didn’t think he’d be able to keep his love a secret very long. It had only been six weeks, but it was already burning a hole in his chest, dying to get out. Maybe he could tell Aziraphale soon. Maybe he _should_. He had no idea, which was odd for him. Crowley was used to being in command in every situation, but in _this_ , he felt like a babe in the woods. Perhaps the right moment would present itself and he’d just _know_. That was the best solution, he decided to himself. He’d just wait for the right moment. Well fucking done, Crowley. Good plan. 

Crowley looked at the couch in the lounge and tried to imagine what Aziraphale would look like sitting there. He was willing to bet that Aziraphale would look _perfect_ there, just as he always looked perfect everywhere, a bright, shining spot in a sea of dark colors. Aziraphale would sit there, perched on the edge of his seat the way he so frequently sat, and Crowley would play for him. He tried to push away the stage fright he felt about it, calling himself silly for being afraid.

Then, hopefully, they were going to kiss some more. A lot more. Would Aziraphale let him hold him? Could he possibly talk Aziraphale into cuddling for a while, kissing and touching gently? God, how he wanted that.

Crowley’s cock throbbed in his pants just thinking about being near Aziraphale, kissing him, and he scowled down at it. Goddamn thing was getting to be a nuisance. He wondered if he should go take care of it. On one hand, if he wanked much more, his cock might start to look like a fucking handlebar grip. On the other hand, it wouldn't do to be spending a quiet evening with the love of his life - and a constant erection. That might offend Aziraphale. At the very least, it might give him the wrong impression about Crowley's motives. Despite what his cock was indicating, Crowley was interested in much, much more than sex. Besides that, he might be a bit more _relaxed_ if he took the edge off. It couldn’t hurt. He needed a shower anyway. 

Mind made up, he went to his bathroom, turned the water on to a comfortable temperature, then stripped out of his clothes. He ignored his cock for the moment, got into the shower, and started soaping himself. As he ran his hands all over his body, he let his mind wander and his cock stiffened further. 

Crowley closed his eyes and imagined Aziraphale in his shower with him, the water sluicing over his body. He’d never seen Aziraphale’s body unclothed, of course, but his imagination was vivid and had no problem filling in the blanks. He expected Aziraphale to be soft, but in the best possible way, with gentle curves and slopes to his body that Crowley would be desperate to touch. In his mind’s eye, Aziraphale had a pelt of blond hair on his chest, just slightly darker than his head, that would darken further when it was wet. And he imagined - nay, he was certain - that Aziraphale would be the owner of the most beautiful, most perfect cock anyone ever had. His mouth watered when he thought about it. 

_’Can I wash you, angel?’ he asked._

_Aziraphale smiled softly. ‘Only if I can wash you, too.’_

_Crowley grabbed the bar of soap and stepped forward, putting his hands on Aziraphale’s gorgeous body, running his hands all over, washing him, worshiping him. He felt Aziraphale’s hands on him, too, gentle yet strong, spiking his desire._

He sighed softly and wrapped his hand around his cock, starting to stroke.

_The next thing he knew, they were kissing, their bodies pressed together. He could feel Aziraphale’s cock against him, and wanted to touch it, to taste it. He slid his hand between their bodies to wrap around Aziraphale._

_Aziraphale reached between them as well, gripping Crowley, and they panted into each other’s mouths between kisses as they worked each other._

Crowley started to pump a little faster, propping himself against the wall with one arm. 

_’Crowley, you feel so good… I love your cock… I want you so much, dear, so very very much. Can I have you?’_

“Yes,” Crowley moaned aloud, fucking his hand. “Yes, anything…”

_Aziraphale twisted his wrist and smiled wickedly against Crowley’s mouth. ‘Would you like to come?’_

_’Yes, please…’_

_He captured Crowley’s earlobe between his teeth. ‘Come for me, Crowley. Come, my darling, and I’ll come for you. Oh, I love you so much…’_

Crowley came with a shout, calling for Aziraphale, bucking his hips wildly. His face was contorted into a grimace of pleasure, and he stroked himself until he was too sensitive to continue. When he was done and tingling pleasantly, he collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. Fucking _Christ_. If his orgasm was that good when he was just _thinking_ of Aziraphale, what would they be like when he was actually _with_ Aziraphale? He had no idea, but he couldn’t _wait_ to find out. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long. He was in love with Aziraphale and wanted to _make_ love to him. 

But for now, he needed to finish washing himself and get out of the shower. Aziraphale was going to be here in a little while and he needed to be ready. Maybe he could practice what he’d play tonight for a little while before it was time. He still wasn’t sure _what_ songs he should play. He didn’t want to play a love song he’d written for someone else, but he didn’t know if he was ready to play one of the love songs he’d written for Aziraphale yet. He had no idea what to do. He was probably overthinking, he knew, but couldn’t help it. 

Maybe he could text Aziraphale and beg him to come early and put him out of his misery. That was an option. A little voice cautioned against it, warning him he didn’t want to seem too eager, and he scoffed at it, mentally. He _was_ eager, and Aziraphale seemed to like that. He could only hope that continued. 

Sighing to himself, he pushed off the wall, rinsing his come off his hand and the wall and started all over washing his hair and body, daydreaming about tonight.

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale was sitting in his armchair, book in hand, pretending to read but not really doing so. His mind was full of _Crowley_ and the fact that this man was somehow, inexplicably, his boyfriend. At least, he _thought_ Crowley was his boyfriend. He honestly didn’t know. He knew they were in a _relationship_ but didn’t know what terminology Crowley would prefer to use. If he could think of a tactful way to bring it up, he would.

Oh, he was so in love. So heart wrenchingly in love. He’d never loved anyone or anything the way he loved Crowley. And, like most people in love, he desperately wanted to tell someone - specifically Crowley. But should he? Aziraphale had requested to take things slow, but he was _tired_ of going slow. He wanted to move things at a more reasonable pace now. He wanted to touch and be touched, to kiss and be kissed, to love and be loved. He wasn’t sure that Crowley was in love with him, but he knew Crowley felt _something_ akin to it. Otherwise, what would he have meant when he said he’d never felt that way before? That had to mean something, right? Oh, Aziraphale didn’t know. And he had no idea how to go about telling Crowley how he felt.

His mobile went off beside him and he grabbed it excitedly. 

Crowley: _I can’t wait to see you. I’m counting the minutes. xx_

Aziraphale smiled, feeling like he was _glowing_ from within as he texted back. 

Aziraphale: _I’m excited, too. Waiting on the car to get here, then I’m on my way. xx_

Crowley sent back the kissy face emoji, and Aziraphale blushed a little. Before he had a chance to reply, the driver texted, saying he was outside. Aziraphale put his book down and went to meet the car. 

As he rode in the back of the car towards Mayfair, Aziraphale’s mind again wandered to what this night would bring. He’d been daydreaming about tonight since they’d agreed to do it on Thursday night, and all kinds of wild scenarios had played out in his head. He knew that Crowley had ordered dinner for them and that Crowley was going to play music for him, but didn’t know what else might happen. He was _hoping_ for more kissing - and maybe some more than kissing. Now that he was in love with Crowley, he didn’t see the point of waiting, and he’d spent quite a lot of time thinking of what making love to Crowley would be like. He’d touched himself numerous times, thinking about it - including twice today. But would Crowley think he was fast if he asked for more? He didn’t _think_ so - he was fairly sure that Crowley would be delighted if Aziraphale made a move, sexually, but he could be wrong…

Aziraphale brushed that thought to the side for now. He could let the evening be his guide, and do what felt right in the moment. It may not be appropriate for him to make a move tonight. Or they may end up having sex. Either way, Aziraphale would be happy. As long as he got to spend the time with Crowley, his love, he’d be happy. 

The car dropped him off in front of a large building in Mayfair, and Aziraphale stood in front of it for a moment, fighting his nerves. Crowley was inside waiting for him, and he was going to spend a wonderful evening with his bloke. He blew out a breath, squared his shoulders, and went inside. 

Crowley’s flat was in the penthouse, and once he got past the very strict doorman, Aziraphale rode the lift to the top floor, anxious and excited. When the lift opened, he went to the door and stood there for a second, took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and knocked. 

The door swung open just a second after and Crowley stood there, smiling. He was dressed slightly more casual than usual in that his jacket, tie, and glasses were missing, but oh, he looked so _good_. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at him, head over heels in love, and Crowley smiled back, looking as besotted as Aziraphale felt. 

Before he knew it, he was wrapped in Crowley’s arms, being kissed into oblivion. He was helpless but to wrap his arms around Crowley, clinging to him as his heart beat out an exultant rhythm while they kissed. Aziraphale didn’t think he’d ever been so happy. 

Crowley gentled the kiss after a moment, much to Aziraphale’s disappointment, and he chased Crowley’s lips, making the red haired man smile. 

“Hiya, angel,” he said in a murmur against Aziraphale’s lips. 

Aziraphale smiled back, nearly overwhelmed with love. “Hello, yourself.”

Crowley pressed one more kiss to his lips, then released his hold on Aziraphale, grabbing his hand. “Come on. Let me show you around.”

“Okay,” Aziraphale said, still a bit dazed, following him into the flat. 

“This is the foyer, of course,” Crowley was saying, “And this is the lounge.”

Aziraphale peered into the room he was showing, taking it in. It was large, almost cavernous, and very stylishly decorated. The furniture looked upscale and was all black leather and chrome. In fact, the only things that weren’t some shade of black or grayscale were the plants, of which there were several. It boasted a lovely view of the city. 

“This is the dining room,” Crowley said, pulling him gently towards another room across the hall. “And the kitchen is through there. The loo is the first door on the right, and my bedroom is the second room on the right. There are two other bedrooms, the plant room, and the studio. My studio is at the end of the corridor, on the left.” 

“You have a studio?”

Crowley gave him a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I do. Just a small one. Would you like to see it?”

“Please. I’m very curious.”

“No problem. Come on,” he said, starting down the hall and pulling Aziraphale along with him. Aziraphale’s eyes darted to the room Crowley had indicated was his bedroom as they passed, but he didn’t say anything. 

Crowley brought them to the door of the studio, and flipped on the light as they stepped inside. Aziraphale felt his eyes get big as he looked around. It wasn’t a small room, no matter how Crowley had described it, and he struggled to take it all in. There was a row of guitars hanging on the wall and a couple of keyboards, plus a drum kit sitting in the corner, beside a ficus. There were also several racks of machines with lights and buttons, and a large board with dozens of knobs. On the wall were framed magazine covers, all featuring Crowley, and a couple of shelves with various awards, including five Brit awards and three Grammys. There were also several gold and platinum records framed and hanging on the wall. Aziraphale had known he had all of these - he’d read his wikipedia, after all - but seeing them live and in person made it somehow more real. His boyfriend was a _rock star_. A huge one, by the looks of things. Aziraphale had no idea what to think. 

“Wow,” he said, unable to articulate anything else. “This is incredible.”

“Is it… is it alright?”

“It’s _wonderful_ , Crowley. I’d known you were impressive, but seeing the evidence…”

“I, um, I try to keep all of that confined to this room. I don’t let it spill into the living areas. I’m more able to keep my ego in check that way,” he said with a small laugh. 

Aziraphale turned to look at him, a wondering half smile on his face. “All of this… you have all of this, all these millions of fans, and you still choose to spend your time with me.”

“Of course I do, angel. I’m mad about you.”

Aziraphale smiled and stepped over to Crowley, touching his cheek then kissing him sweetly. “Thank you, darling. I haven’t the foggiest what someone like you sees in someone like me, but I’m so glad you do. I feel so lucky.”

“No, I’m the lucky one, angel. You’re so good and kind and perfect and gorgeous... I’ll never know what you see in me.”

“I see _everything_ in you, darling. Every good thing.”

“Call me darling again. Please.”

Aziraphale smiled. “My darling one.”

Crowley looked to be about to say something, but changed his mind and kissed Aziraphale instead. Aziraphale was only too happy to _be_ kissed, and melted into Crowley's arms. He was feeling himself get lost in it when he heard the doorbell ring and they broke the kiss, surprised. 

“That’ll be the food,” Crowley said, pulling away. “You make yourself at home and I’ll go get the table set.”

“Can I help you?”

“You don’t have to…”

“I’d like to.”

Crowley grinned at him. “I’d like that.” The doorbell rang again and he kissed him quickly then reached for Aziraphale’s hand. “Come on, angel. Let’s go eat.”

~*~O~*~

“Are you ready for dessert?” Crowley asked from across the table, a smile on his lips.

“You ordered dessert, too?”

“Of course I did. I know all too well how that’s your favorite part of any meal.”

“No, my dear, my favorite part of any meal is sharing it with you,” Aziraphale said sincerely. 

Crowley’s eyes softened. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do, with my whole heart.” _I love you._

“You’re my favorite part of any meal, too, angel. My favorite part of _anything_.”

Aziraphale just gave him a dopey gaze, and Crowley smiled back until he shook himself. “Er, right. Got a bit lost in my thoughts there. Can I tempt you into dessert?”

“Temptation accomplished. Can I help you?”

“Nah,” Crowley said, getting to his feet and grabbing their empty plates. “I’ll get it. You can pour us some more wine, if you want.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

Crowley gave him a smile and exited to the kitchen. Aziraphale poured each of them another glass of wine - their third - then sat the bottle down and sipped it while he waited. 

“Voila,” Crowley said when he returned to the table with two small plates.

“Ooh, what is it?”

“It’s called torta setteveli, or seven veils cake. I’ve never had it, but it got good reviews on the website, and it looked like something you’d like.”

“I’ve never had it, either, but it looks scrummy.”

Crowley pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s head as he put his plate down and Aziraphale beamed at him. When Crowley was back to sitting across from him, they both picked up a fork and tucked in. Aziraphale let out a decadent moan when the flavors burst across his tongue, but he couldn't help it. It was _so good_.

He didn’t miss Crowley shifting in his seat, though, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Is it good, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded as he chewed. “It’s _very_ good. You did an excellent job.”

“I’ll be sure to order it again sometime for us.”

Aziraphale felt a thrill at the thought of doing this again, but it was exactly what he’d hoped for. This was the first night of what he fervently hoped would be six thousand nights like tonight. It seemed like Crowley felt the same, and he was elated. 

“So, what do you think of my flat?”

“Oh, it’s _very_ nice, darling.”

Crowley’s face fell a bit. “You don’t like it.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You don’t have to. I can tell.”

“It really is lovely, Crowley. Truly. It’s just a bit… more modern than I’m used to.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair. I didn’t decorate it, if it’s any consolation. I hired a designer and she did all this.”

“Do _you_ like it?”

Crowley shrugged. “I guess. I’m used to it, really. I spend most of my time in the studio or the bedroom. But it’s not what I would do if I could do it over.” He took a bite of his dessert. “I think you’ll like my other two houses, though. In Scotland and LA. They’re much more homey.”

“I’m sure they're lovely, dear. And this flat is lovely, too. Just a bit…”

“Stark?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Well, maybe you could help me liven it up a bit.”

“How so?”

“Just you being here livens it up a great deal. You’re a breath of fresh air. Maybe you could be a frequent visitor?” he finished hopefully. 

Aziraphale smiled at him warmly, his heart full of love. “I think I’d like that, darling.”

Crowley _beamed_ at him, then went back to dessert. 

“Tell me another secret about yourself,” Crowley requested a minute later. 

“Oh, Crowley. I hardly _have_ many secrets. I don’t know if I’d be able to think of anything that no one knows.”

“Well, tell me something that not many people know, then. I’m just greedy for information about you.”

“Alright, darling. Let’s see,” Aziraphale said, considering, racking his brain. “Oh. I know something you may find interesting. I took piano lessons as a child.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did. For several years. My parents considered it an important part of a well-rounded education, so I had a piano tutor from about age seven to about age twelve.”

“Do you still play?”

“Oh, no. I had no talent for it at all and gave it up as soon as my parents would let me.”

“That’s too bad. I was thinking maybe we could duet together sometime.”

“We could duet together another way,” Aziraphale said suggestively, and Crowley’s eyes darkened, a slow grin spreading across his face. Aziraphale’s face matched, but he went back to his dessert. “I’m sorry to disappoint you about playing piano, though.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Go on, then,” he said. “Tell me something no one else knows. Or not many people.”

“I can’t read music,” Crowley said. 

“Really?”

“Really. I play entirely by ear.”

“My goodness. That means you’re even more talented than I thought.”

Crowley looked chuffed by that, and Aziraphale was pleased. 

“I have another confession to make,” Crowley said. 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I’m nervous to play for you tonight.”

“Oh, please don’t be, darling. It’s just me.”

“Exactly. It’s _you_. I feel like this is the most important concert I’ve ever played in my life.”

“Would you rather not do it? I never want to force you into something you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I want to do this, and I’ll be fine once I get started. I’m just nervous now. This is the way my stage fright works.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, not really. I’m just worried about what you’re going to think.”

“I can already tell you that I’m going to love it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, too,” Aziraphale replied stubbornly. “I’m quite sure of that fact - as sure as I am of my name.”

“Fuck, I hope you’re right.”

“You’ll see, dear.”

“I guess I will. Are you ready?”

“I’m more than ready, darling.”

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: you will NOT get an update on Saturday this week, you’ll get it on Monday!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you guys are going to like this. At least, I hope you will.

Aziraphale took his place on the couch, sitting gingerly in the middle, feeling like he was about to burst with excitement. He did his best to tamp it down, to play it cool, thinking that any out of the norm behavior might spook Crowley. He _definitely_ didn’t want that, he wanted Crowley to play for him, so he kept himself sedate, with a small smile on his face. 

While Aziraphale was taking his seat, Crowley went to pick up his black acoustic guitar from the stand it was on beside the telly. Without a word, he came back over to the couch and sat down next to Aziraphale, only a few inches away. His proximity made Aziraphale’s pulse spike, just like it always did. 

Crowley had the guitar perched on his knee and strummed a couple of chords, then stopped the strings and looked up at Aziraphale with a nervous smile. 

“Right. What would you like to hear?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aziraphale said, “Why don’t you play me… your first hit?”

“Alright,” Crowley said, then started to play. Aziraphale watched him admiringly, mesmerized by the way his fingers moved so effortlessly across the strings, knowing just when and how to touch. Then he opened his mouth and started to sing, and Aziraphale nearly swooned. 

Crowley’s voice was like nothing he’d ever heard before. It was rich, rough, but somehow still incredibly smooth, and made Aziraphale think of good whisky. His voice slipped over the notes gracefully, expertly, and Aziraphale understood suddenly why he had so many millions of fans. Who _wouldn’t_ be a fan of his, when he had the voice of an angel? The smoky voice of a fallen angel, yes, but still an angel. 

When the song finished, Crowley stilled the strings with his fingers and looked up at Aziraphale hopefully. Aziraphale immediately burst into enthusiastic applause. 

“Oh, bravo, darling. Bravo.”

Crowley grinned sheepishly. “You liked it?”

“I _loved_ it, Crowley. It was the best song I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re just saying that,” Crowley said, flushing but looking pleased.

“I am not. I thoroughly enjoyed that. I especially liked the lyrics. They reminded me of myself.”

“They did?”

“Yes. They spoke of struggling to be who you’re meant to be, and I relate to that. Or I did when I was younger. There was a time in my life when I struggled deeply with that very issue.”

“Yeah. I wrote it when I was still grappling with my sexuality. I always knew who and what I was, but coming out was hard.”

“I understand entirely.”

“ _Fuck_ , I’m so relieved you liked that.”

”I _loved_ that, darling, and I’d like to hear another.”

“Alright, what next?”

“Why don’t you play your most recent hit?”

“I’ll play for you all night, if that’s what you want.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “I’d love that.”

Crowley launched into another song, then another, then another. Aziraphale liked each song better than the last, and was effusive but sincere in his praise. Oh, he just loved this man so much…

The red haired man was smiling when he finished his fourth song. He looked to be more confident, as if the stage fright had passed, and Aziraphale was glad. 

“What now, sweetheart?”

Aziraphale thought for a second. “Why don’t you play me one that no one has ever heard before, if you have one.”

Crowley was back to looking anxious. “I do have one like that... but I didn't know if you’d want to hear it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He swallowed hard, then said, “Because I wrote it for you.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, surprised . “You - you wrote a song about me?”

“Yeah. A couple of them, actually.”

Aziraphale was dumbstruck. He had no idea what to say. His mind was reeling and all he could manage was, “Would you play one of them for me?”

Crowley didn’t answer with words, he just started playing and singing. 

Aziraphale’s eyes filled with tears as he listened. It was far and away the most beautiful song he’d ever heard, and it had been written for _him_? No one had ever done anything remotely _close_ to this for him, ever. This was simply the most romantic moment of his long life. 

Crowley started the second verse, which was just as beautiful as the first, and spoke just as clearly of love and longing. As he listened, it dawned on him that if these lyrics were true, Crowley was feeling the _exact_ same thing he was, and the knowledge set his heart racing. Aziraphale couldn't believe he was so lucky, to love and be loved by a man like Crowley… oh, he could hardly fathom it. 

His love finished the song and stopped the strings, looking sheepish. Aziraphale had crystal tear tracks on his cheeks, but couldn’t care. He was looking at Crowley adoringly, his eyes full of love. 

“Oh, Crowley, did you _really_ write that for me?”

“Yeah, I did,” he said, setting his guitar to the side. Then he turned back to Aziraphale and took his hand into both of his. He wouldn't meet Aziraphale’s eyes, just looked down at the hand he held, playing with Aziraphale’s fingers. “I, um, I hadn’t planned on doing this tonight, but that song kind of leaves me bare. Nowhere to hide.” He paused, swallowed, then said, “I - I love you, Aziraphale. I know it’s soon, I know and I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. I’ve fallen in love with you. And I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t need you to say it back to me or anything, I just wanted you to know. The last six weeks with you have been the most wonderful of my whole life. I wasn’t lying the other night when I said I’ve never felt this way. This is all new to me, and I don’t know what to do with it. But I _do_ know that I’m in love with you. I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, my darling,” Aziraphale said, his eyes shining with tears. “Do you really mean it?”

Crowley nodded. “I do, angel. I’m in love with you, and I know that I’m going to love you forever.”

Aziraphale launched himself into Crowley’s arms, wrapping his arms around his love and holding him tight. He felt Crowley’s arms go around him and Crowley said in an uncertain voice into his shoulder, “So, is that alright?”

He let out a joyful laugh and pulled back just far enough to see his face. “Of _course_ it’s alright, you daft thing. Oh, Crowley. I love you, too.”

Crowley’s face was like the sun coming out. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I do. I love you so much. Just so much. The last six weeks have been the best of my life, too, an absolute dream come true, and I just _love_ you, Crowley…’’

His words were cut off when Crowley put his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head and pulled him into a hard, almost triumphant kiss. Aziraphale opened to him at once, his heart brimming with joy, and kissed Crowley back, pouring all the love he felt into the movement of his lips and mouth. 

Aziraphale reached out to touch Crowley, wanting to feel his love under his hands, putting one on Crowley’s chest and then letting the other cup his neck. Crowley’s heart was beating under his hand incredibly fast, as fast as Aziraphale’s own heart, and the feeling grounded him somewhat, helped him believe that this was _real_. He wanted to touch Crowey’s skin, to feel him all over, and wondered if he should make a move in that direction or if it was too soon. 

Crowley broke the kiss and started trailing hot, urgent kisses along Aziraphale’s jaw. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, darling.”

He nipped the skin above Aziraphale’s jugular. “Again,” he requested. 

“I love you, Crowley. I love you so very much…”

Crowley released the skin of his throat and raised up to look at Aziraphale, his golden eyes blazing. “One more time.”

Aziraphale smiled gently at him, bringing his hand up to run down his beautiful, angled face. “I love you, Anthony Jay Crowley. I love every little thing about you.”

“You don’t know everything about me.”

“I know more than enough to be in love with you. Have you ever killed a man, or committed some other heinous crime?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, then, I feel reasonably certain that nothing you could ever reveal would change my mind. I’m going to love you no matter what I learn, just as I hope you’ll love me.”

Crowley stared at him, his golden eyes unblinking, unfathomable, and Aziraphale didn’t look away. He held his gaze. 

He was surprised when his love leaned forward and pressed another gentle kiss to his mouth. “I’m going to marry you,” he said, out of the blue, against Aziraphale’s lips. 

Aziraphale let out a surprised - but delighted - laugh. “Oh, Crowley…”

“No, I mean it. I’m going to marry you one day, Aziraphale Fell. You see if I don’t.”

“Are you _asking_ me or _telling_ me?” Aziraphale asked, teasingly. 

“I’m telling you that one day in the future, I’m _going_ to ask you. And I’m going to _keep_ asking you until you say yes.”

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “I’m no fortune teller, but I predict you won’t have to ask more than once,” he murmured through his smile. 

“I won’t?”

“You won’t.”

Crowley kissed him, hard. “ _Fuck_ , I just love you, Aziraphale. I love you so much. And I want you. Forever.”

Aziraphale gave him a coy smile, his cock twitching in his trousers. “There’s nothing to stop you from having me. Right now.”

“Yes, there is,” he said with a groan. 

“What?”

“Don’t you think we need to talk about sex before we do it? At least the safe sex stuff.”

It was a bit like a glass of cold water to the face when he said that. Why hadn’t _he_ thought of that? Oh, love was making a fool out of him already.

“You’re right,” he said, sitting back a bit. “You’re exactly right. We should.” Aziraphale took a deep breath to calm himself, then said. “I, um, I get tested every year, in July.”

“But you’ve had a partner since then.”

“One, yes. We were in a relationship and _I_ was monogamous, but there was always the chance that _he_ wasn’t. So I should be tested. I’ll make arrangements to do so tomorrow,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What if I went with you?”

“Do you need to be tested, too?”

“Yes and no. I get tested, too, every August.”

“Have you had sex since then?”

“No, I haven't slept with anyone in over a year, but I don’t feel like it’s fair for you to be tested and me not be.”

Aziraphale smiled. “You’re so silly. You don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to. We can make a date of it. What do you say?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to turn down a date with you...” Aziraphale said with a smile. 

Crowley gave him a brilliant smile in return and kissed him again. “We’ll go somewhere on your lunch break tomorrow. There are bound to be clinics around Soho.”

“There are. One is rather near the shop. You’d really do that for me?”

Crowley reached up and stroked his cheek. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I can’t wait to _make_ love to you.”

“God, me, too. Fuck. I want to touch you and taste you so fucking badly. But I feel like we should wait.”

Aziraphale tried to fight the stab of hurt he felt. “But why? There are loads of things we can do without penetration.”

“Because I know myself, and I know that once I have a taste of you, I’m going want _all_ of you. I’m going to want to do anything and everything all at once. It’s better for me if we just don’t start until we can _do_ anything and everything.”

He considered this for a minute. “Well, I can see the logic in that.” He pressed a sweet kiss to Crowley’s lips. “Alright, darling. I’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

“It’s only until we get our results back,” Crowley said. 

“It’s fine, dear. Really. I’m not some sex-crazed maniac. It’s not like I’m going to love you less because we can’t make love _right this minute_. I can wait.”

“Oh, thank God. I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“Can I hold you? Please? I’m dying to get you into my arms.”

Aziraphale gave him a smile. “Only if you promise to kiss me, too.”

Crowley grinned at him. “Sweetheart, I’m going to kiss you so much you’re going to get sick of it.”

“I highly doubt that,” Aziraphale replied with his own grin. 

“We’ll see.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s lips, then pulled back, going to the corner of the couch and settling in, laying his arm across the back of the couch in invitation. Aziraphale smiled at him, then slid under his arm, nestling into his side. He lay his right arm across Crowley’s chest, and felt Crowley drape his arm around his shoulders. Once he was situated, Crowley started tracing patterns on his bicep. 

“Comfy, angel?”

“Oh, yes. I’m wonderfully comfortable.”

Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good. I love you. And I hope you don’t get tired of me saying that.”

“I could never.”

They were quiet for a little while, and Aziraphale just basked in the moment. If you’d told him this would happen as a result of him entering a contest, that he’d have met a man and fallen in love, he’d have laughed fit to burst. But he _had_ , and he’d never been happier. He’d thought he’d been in love before, several times, but those relationships had nothing on this, on the way he felt right now. He sighed happily. 

“What is it?” Crowley asked softly. 

“I just have a hard time believing this is real. I mean, our story is something you’d read in in a cheesy romance.”

Crowley chuckled. “I haven’t read a lot of cheesy romances, so I’ll have to take your word for it. But I think our story is perfect.”

“I do, too. I just know that people aren't going to believe us when we tell them how we met.”

“Who gives a fuck if they believe us or not? We know the truth.”

“Yes, I suppose we do,” Aziraphale said, rubbing a circle onto Crowley’s chest. 

They lapsed back into silence until Crowley said, “Hey, angel?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I’d like to introduce you to some people, when you’re ready. The important players in my life.”

“Who?”

“Well, I’d like for you to meet the band. They’ve heard all about you, and there’s some jealousy because Beezle met you and no one else did. The others want to, too.”

“I’d be happy to meet them.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would. Perhaps we could go to dinner or something.”

“We actually have a dinner party every couple of months for the band members and their significant others. It’s coming up soon. Would you be willing to go?”

“I’d love to, darling.”

Crowley kissed his head. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. Is there anyone else?”

“Yeah. I’d like you to meet my mother, if you’re willing.”

Aziraphale raised his head to smile at him. “Really?”

“Yes. Would you?”

“Of course, darling. I’d love to.”

Crowley broke into a relieved smile. “Excellent. That’s excellent. I’ll set something up for when we get back from New York - so in ten days or so?”

“That would be perfect. Just give me a couple of days to make sure I have coverage for the shop.”

“No problem. Is there anyone you’d like _me_ to meet?”

“No, not really. You’ve already met Newt and Tracy. They’re the people closest to me - except you.”

“Except me,” Crowley agreed, a smile in his voice, and Aziraphale lengthened his body to kiss him softly. 

Once again, they grew quiet, secure in each other’s arms, and Crowley pressed a kiss to his hair. “I love you, angel. Thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“For entering that contest. For being willing to see me again. For being perfect. For loving me. Take your pick. You just make me so happy, and I’m unbelievably fucking grateful.”

“I’m over the moon happy and grateful to you, too,” he said, rubbing Crowley’s chest again, lovingly. “When do you fly out?”

“Thursday. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

“I’m going to miss you dreadfully.” 

“I’ll miss you, too. But we’ll see each other Wednesday for lunch, right?”

“Yes, of course. Would you like to maybe have our Sunday date on Wednesday evening?”

“I’d love to, angel. I know just the place to take you, weather permitting.”

“I can’t wait. What, um, what time does your flight leave on Thursday?”

“One.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard. “Would you like to spend the night with me, provided we’ve gotten a clean bill of health?”

Crowley’s golden eyes were blazing. “Just try and stop me.”

Aziraphale shivered pleasantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to ask, but I have a [tumblr blog](https://caedmonfaith.tumblr.com/) with a post about a real life situation I need help with. It would mean a lot to me if you could take a minute and read, and possibly reblog/share. Whether you do or don't, I'm going to keep writing for you. I thank you for your hits, comments, and kudos... and your support.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO MUCH for your love and support this week. I'm in awe of the love you guys showed me. I never expected it. My oral surgery went alright and I'm sore but recuperating. 
> 
> Just... thank you. <3

_Wednesday, 26 May_

Aziraphale and Crowley were seated on the rooftop of a restaurant in central London on Wednesday night, under the darkening sky. Crowley had surprised him with this date, saying only that they were going to a romantic dinner. When they’d arrived at the restaurant, it had been revealed that they were dining in the rooftop garden, then they were going to enjoy a little guided stargazing. Truly, if he’d tried, Aziraphale couldn't have thought of a more romantic date. It just made him love Crowley all the more. He wouldn’t have thought that was possible, but it seemed it was. 

The waiter came over to retrieve their dinner plates and replaced them with dessert, an elegant tiramisu. They thanked him politely then picked up their forks to taste.

“Is something wrong, angel?” Crowley asked after they’d taken their first bites. 

“Hmm? No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You’re usually more… vocal when you like something.”

Aziraphale flushed a bit. “No, it’s all very good. I’ve just seen how you react when I make noises like that and I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother, honestly. It just makes me randy as all get-out.”

He smiled at that. He’d known, or at least suspected, but hearing the confirmation was wonderful. 

“I just figured since we haven’t gotten our test results back yet, I shouldn’t tease you or egg you on. You _haven’t_ gotten your test results back, have you?” he asked hopefully. 

“No,” Crowley said, sounding (and looking) disgruntled. “They said forty-eight hours, and it’s been that, it’s been _more_ than that, but I haven’t heard anything. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t either.”

“I actually called them today to try and find out, but they told me that the lab was running behind and I’d get an email when the results came through. I offered to pay to expedite the results, but they refused. Said it was illegal.” 

Aziraphale just smiled. “I’m very eager, too, darling. But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. If we don’t make love tonight - and it looks like we won't - that’s fine. I can wait until you’re home from New York.” 

“ _You_ can,” Crowley muttered, stabbing at his tiramisu. “I’m about to go fucking mad.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but giggle at that, and Crowley winked at him, making his heart flutter. Oh, how he loved this man. 

“What will you do in New York?” he asked after he took another bite. 

“I have a couple of interviews, plus the awards show, but I’ll mostly be schmoozing. Going to parties and things like that.” 

“That could be fun.”

Crowley shrugged. “I guess. I’m not particularly looking forward to it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d rather be home with you.”

Aziraphale melted. “I’m going to miss you, too. But I promise to be here when you get back.”

“Can I take you to lunch on Monday? I know it’s not our usual day, but…”

“If you’re not too jet lagged, I’d like that.”

“I won’t be. I promise. I’m going to be champing at the bit to see you.”

“Yes, I imagine I’ll feel the same way. But we should probably get used to being separated at times, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t like to think about that.”

“No, I don’t either. But we’ll be alright,” he said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. In truth, he was very anxious about time apart. This was so new, and felt so fragile…

“Too right we will,” Crowley said firmly. 

In his pocket, his mobile vibrated against his leg. The motion made him jump, and Crowley noticed. “Are you alright, angel?”

“I’m fine. It’s just my mobile.”

“You can answer it.”

“Oh, no, that’s rude. Besides, I’d rather talk to you.”

“Well now _I’m_ going off.”

“Should we be rude together?”

Crowley grinned at him. “You know how I like being rude…”

Aziraphale returned his grin, then pulled out his mobile and opened up the email notification, his look of curiosity evolving into a broad smile.

_Dear Mr. Fell,_   
_Your test results have returned and we are pleased to inform you…_

He looked up, wide-eyed and happy, to see Crowley smiling at his mobile, too. 

“Good news?” he asked, coyly. 

“The best,” Crowley said, smiling brightly at him. “Say, angel, is that offer to spend the night at your place still on the table?”

“Oh yes. It very much is.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he said, his eyes glittering. Aziraphale swallowed hard and resisted the temptation to snog him breathless right there on the rooftop. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC said from a few feet away, catching the attention of the six couples on the rooftop. “It is now time to begin the stargazing portion of the evening…”

He spent the next few minutes going over rules and procedures for looking through the special telescopes that had been set up, explaining that each was pointed at a specific heavenly body or star group. Aziraphale listened as attentively as he could, doing his best to divert his attention away from Crowley, but it wasn’t easy. 

Finally, the MC finished giving directions and invited the six couples over to the six telescopes. As soon as they were standing, Crowley had his hand around Aziraphale’s, and Aziraphale gave him a smile. They were directed to the first telescope in the circuit, and Crowley gestured for him to go first. 

As he looked through the lens and at other times, Crowley kept a gentle hand on the small of his back or his shoulder - just a light touch that set Aziraphale’s heart to pumping. It meant so much, just so much to him. 

They saw a gorgeous view of the moon, Mars, the Andromeda galaxy, then Saturn. While they looked, Crowley told Aziraphale little factoids and stories about what he was seeing. Aziraphale loved to hear him talk, and was an excited listener. 

On the fifth telescope, Crowley said, “Ah, Vega. Do you know the story of Vega?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Vega was a celestial princess, a goddess of the sky. As such, she was immortal, but sad because it seemed she would live in eternity alone.

“One day, Altair, a mortal, caught her eye. She descended from the heavens to greet him, and as they got to know each other she fell deeply in love. Vega promised Altair that no matter what they would be together in the heavens.”

“Oh, how romantic,” Aziraphale sighed.

“Yes, quite. But when Vega’s father found out, he was enraged that his daughter would fall in love with a mere mortal. His fury only grew when he discovered that Vega promised to bring Altair up to the heavens with her.”

“Oh, no…”

“Cruelly, Vega’s father granted the promise that she made. The two lovers were placed in the sky as stars. Yet while they were both in the heavens, they were not together. The great Celestial River - which we call the Milky Way - separated them.”

“Oh, the poor dears. That’s so sad.”

“It is, but the story isn’t done. Each year, on the seventh night of the seventh moon, a bridge of magpies forms across the Celestial River. It’s only for one night a year, but every single year, the lovers are reunited when Altair crosses the Celestial River to be with his true love.”

Aziraphale had tears in his eyes. “Oh, that’s so incredibly romantic.”

“Yeah. That’s one of my favorite stories.”

“I empathize fully with Altair, falling in love with a deity.”

Crowley laughed. “I’m no deity, angel. Far from it.”

“You are to me. I love you. And I’d cross the Milky Way to be with you, even if it meant I could only see you once a year. It would be worth it to me.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do.”

The next thing he knew, Crowley was kissing him, his tongue sliding into Aziraphale’s mouth, pressing his body against Aziraphale. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, kissing him almost desperately, and felt himself hardening in his trousers. He could feel Crowley’s cock pressing against his, and oh, how he wanted to touch, to kiss, to taste. 

He’d quite forgotten where they were when he heard a loud cleared throat nearby, making them break the kiss. 

“Sorry,” he said to the disapproving-looking MC. Crowley mumbled an apology, too. 

Once the man was gone, Crowley turned back to him. His voice was nervous but excited when he said. “Say, angel, what do you say we blow off this last telescope and go back to your flat?”

Aziraphale’s heart beat faster and he smiled. “I’d love that.”

~*~O~*~

Crowley was doing his best to keep his rampaging thoughts quiet as he drove the short distance from the restaurant to Aziraphale’s flat. He was nervous, more nervous than he’d been in ages, and he lectured himself for it. He’d had sex thousands of times, and he’d never had stage fright about it. Why on earth should he be nervous _now_?

 _Because it’s Aziraphale_ , his brain retorted. _And you’re in love with him. Those other people were, by and large, just shags. Aziraphale_ matters. _And you’re not going to be just having sex. You’re going to get to hold him, touch him, cherish him. You’ll get to sleep with him and wake up in his arms._

Fuck. He could hardly wait. 

They arrived in Soho and Crowley parked, then jumped out to open Aziraphale’s door for him. He was rewarded with a smile that made his heart flip over in his chest, then a lingering kiss that made it flip again. 

“Come upstairs with me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said against his lips, and Crowley was helpless to do anything but nod silently. 

Aziraphale took his hand and led him up the stairs to his flat, not letting go of Crowley’s trembling hand until he had to unlock the door. 

“Would you like a drink?” Aziraphale asked as he closed it behind them and flicked on the light. 

“I, uh, I’ll have a drink if you’re having one.”

“How about a glass of wine?”

“That sounds good,” Crowley said, hoping his nerves didn’t show in his voice. 

Aziraphale kissed him sweetly. “I’ll be right back, my love,” he said, then left to go into the kitchen. Crowley watched him go with hungry eyes on his arse. Bloody hell. He was going to be able to touch that arse in a very short while. _Fuck_ , he was excited. He tried to push away the nerves and focus more on the excitement as he took a seat on the couch. 

A minute later, Aziraphale breezed back into the room with two glasses of white wine and a smile. He handed one to Crowley, then sat down next to him. His proximity brought on a resurgence of nerves. 

“Would you like to toast?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Sure. What to?”

Aziraphale raised the glass. “To perfect nights like tonight. Here’s to six thousand more of them.”

“Hear, hear,” Crowley said, and they clinked glasses and drank. 

Aziraphale’s blue eyes were heated when he coyly sat his wineglass down on the coffee table. Crowley followed his lead. 

“I feel we should talk a bit more before we do this.”

Crowley swallowed. “Have you changed your mind?” he asked, his heart in his throat. 

“Oh, no, darling. Never that. But we haven’t talked about preferences. What we like and don’t like. As it stands, I’m about to wade into this with no idea how to please you, and I very much want to please you.”

“I want to please you, too, angel. More than anything.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I have no doubt that you’re going to. But what kind of sex do you like?”

Crowley had _no idea_ how to answer that. “I mean, I like all kinds, really.”

“Do you like oral sex?”

He nodded. “I do. Very much.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both.”

“Oh, good. I very much want to suck you off.” Crowley’s cock twitched in his pants, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice. “Do you like rimjobs?”

“Yes. I like giving and receiving those, too.”

“That’s also good. I love them. Do you like anal sex?”

“I - yes. I do.”

“Do you prefer to top or bottom?”

Crowley swallowed again, hoping against hope his nerves didn’t show. “I like both, honestly. It depends on my mood.”

“I feel much the same. There are times I like to fuck, but other times - _most_ times - I just want to _be_ fucked. To be claimed. Do you know?”

Fuck. Crowley thought his cock might explode. “Yeah. I agree.”

“That’s so good to hear. It sounds like we’re going to be _very_ sexually compatible.”

“I - yeah. It does.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes a bit. “Are you nervous, Crowley?”

He wanted to lie. He wanted to laugh it off and pretend he was supremely confident. But he’d sworn to himself to never lie to Aziraphale, so he nodded. “I am a bit, yeah.”

“Would you rather we not do this?”

“No! No, not that at all. It’s just… it’s just a bit of stage fright, I reckon.”

“Oh, darling. I hate to think of you being anxious and suffering because of me.”

“I just want this to be good for you, angel. The best sex you’ve ever had.”

“I have no doubt it’s going to be. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, and that is going to enhance the experience. It’s going to be making love, not just sex.”

“No, it could never just be sex. Not with you.”

“I have to admit, I’m nervous, too. I’m not as experienced, and I’m afraid you’ll find me less exciting than past partners you’ve had.”

“I promise, Aziraphale, I _swear_ that's not going to be an issue.”

Aziraphale scooted closer. “Can I ask you a couple more questions?”

Crowley nodded, trying not to let on that he was trembling. “Of course.”

He was so close, Crowley could _smell_ him, and Jesus, he smelled good. Like sandalwood and musk and old paper. It was fucking intoxicating, and Crowley wanted to bury his face in his neck and take a deep breath, inhaling him into his lungs, keeping him there forever. 

“Is there anything you _don’t_ like? Sexually?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to cause you pain.” 

“Hmm. Would you be willing to hold my head still while I’m sucking you off? Grip me by the hair and fuck my mouth?”

Crowley’s cock was now achingly hard, pulsing in his trousers. “Fuck. Yes. I’ll do that. _Jesus_ , angel.”

“Oh, good. What kind of mood are you in, dear?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes darting all over Crowley’s face. “Because if it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to _be_ fucked tonight. I’d like to feel your cock inside me, filling me. Claiming me.”

 _Jesus_. Crowley gave a jerky nod. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d fucking _love_ that.”

“Oh, very good. I only have one more question for you, dear.”

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He barely had the time to say ‘please’ before Aziraphale was kissing him, his body leaning into Crowley’s, his hands in Crowley’s hair. Crowley kissed him back enthusiastically, his tongue seeking out Aziraphale’s, letting out a noise when they found each other. He wound his arm around Aziraphale, pulling him closer, fisting his hand in the satin fabric of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, between his shoulderblades. Like magic, all his anxiety melted away, and he was fully focused on Aziraphale’s pleasure, on taking him apart. 

It was only a moment before he felt Aziraphale’s hand over his cock, squeezing him, and Crowley moaned into the kiss. In retaliation, he sent his own hand down into Aziraphale’s lap, finding him hard, and _fuck_. He felt so thick, so perfect. Crowley wanted to touch him _more_ , to see him, to _suck_ him…

Aziraphale broke the kiss, panting for air, giving Crowley a smile as he stroked him. “Is this for me?” 

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. It’s all for you.”

“I was already excited about you fucking me,” he said, his stormy eyes glinting, “But now I _really_ can’t wait. You feel so big and thick. I want to suck you.”

“God, _fuck_ , angel. I can’t wait to suck you off, to fuck you, for you to fuck _me_...”

“We will, my love,” Aziraphale said, then surprised Crowley when he released his cock and swung one leg over the red haired man’s lap, straddling him. Within seconds, he had their cocks pressed against each other and was rolling his hips, providing both of them with mind-blowing friction. Crowley grabbed his arse, squeezing the flesh, guiding his motions. _Christ_ , his arse felt so good and filled his hands so perfectly. His head was tilted back so he was looking up at Aziraphale, his eyes blown wide with desire. 

Aziraphale grinned at him, a naughty, cocky, half smile. “Are you still nervous?”

Crowley shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, then claimed Crowley’s mouth again. The kiss was hard, needy, and Crowley surrendered entirely to it. He was utterly lost in the kiss when he felt Aziraphale pushing at his jacket, shoving it off his shoulders. 

“Off,” he said. “Get it _off_. I need to see you.”

“Only if I can see you,” Crowley rejoined, still flexing his fingers in the meat of Aziraphale’s arse. 

“If you want me naked, you can feel free to make me that way,” Aziraphale replied coyly. 

Crowley kissed him again, releasing his bum and going to work on the buttons of his waistcoat, unfastening them as quickly as he was able. His hands kept bumping into Aziraphale’s as he fumbled with his buttons, still grinding his cock against Aziraphale. Crowley broke the kiss, needing air, but went straight to Aziraphale’s neck, licking and kissing and sucking. 

Finally, the buttons were done and they were forced to release each other to shove off their shirts. Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s undershirt and pulled it off hurriedly, revealing him, and nearly lost his breath. Aziraphale’s bare chest looked exactly like what he’d imagined, but somehow _better_. The hair on his chest was curly and blond, almost as light as the hair on his head, and insufficient to hide his pink nipples. He was soft, so soft, with a slightly rounded belly that Crowley wanted to bite. He spread his hands out, touching as much skin as he could, gazing at his love with heat in his eyes. 

“Is - is that alright?” Aziraphale asked, sounding uncertain.

Crowley looked up at him. “Angel, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Aziraphale’s smile was sheepish. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes. You’re so goddamn sexy, and I want you so much.”

“You can have me, Crowley. I’m yours. You can have me any way you want me.”

“Kiss me,” Crowley requested, and Aziraphale did. Crowley clung to him, clutching him tight while Aziraphale rocked his hips into Crowley. 

He was feeling himself climb slowly but inexorably towards orgasm when Aziraphale broke the kiss and looked down into Crowley’s eyes. 

“I think we should take this to the bedroom.” 

“God, yes,” Crowley agreed. 

Aziraphale grinned, pressed one more kiss to his lips, then clambered off his lap. 

“Come with me, my darling,” he said, pulling Crowley to his feet. “Come to bed with me.”

It took them a few minutes to make it down the corridor to the bedroom, between the heated, messy kisses and feverish attempts to disrobe each other. When they finally made it to Aziraphale’s bedroom, both men were almost entirely naked, clad only in their pants, with their hands wrapped around each other’s cocks. Crowley opened his eyes enough to spot Aziraphale’s large, comfy-looking bed, then guided Aziraphale over to it, never breaking the kiss, pumping his cock the whole way. Aziraphale sat when the bed hit the backs of his legs, and Crowley barely had a second to react before Aziraphale had pulled down his boxer briefs, baring him.

“Oh, good _lord_ , Crowley. It should be illegal for a man to be this gorgeous. I simply _must_ taste you.”

And without another word, he licked Crowley’s cock, from the root to the tip, making Crowley hiss a breath. Crowley was stunned - and nearly came - when Aziraphale let out a moan that was even more filthy than the ones he made when he was eating something delicious. 

“Oh, my dear… you taste _exquisite_ ,” he said, then swirled his tongue around the head, gathering Crowley’s taste. When he’d finished, he pumped Crowley’s cock with his hand and looked up with big blue eyes. 

“Can I suck you, darling? Please? I’m absolutely _gagging_ for your cock…”

Crowley nodded, his breath labored. “Yeah. Please.”

Aziraphale gave him a quick, brilliant smile, then opened his mouth and engulfed Crowley. Crowley let out a ragged sound, which competed with Aziraphale’s moan, and watched helplessly as Aziraphale started moving his mouth in rhythm with his hand, sucking greedly, his cheeks hollowing on every upstroke. His impulse was to close his eyes, but he didn't dare. He wouldn’t miss this sight for _anything_. 

It only took Aziraphale a moment to establish a fantastic rhythm that had Crowley’s toes curling. He was surprised when Aziraphale grabbed his hand and put it on his snowy head. Remembering their conversation from a few minutes before, Crowley asked, “Are you sure?” Aziraphale gave an affirmative hum and grabbed his other hand, putting it on his head, too. Crowley tightened his hands into loose fists and followed the direction of Aziraphale’s hands when they started guiding him into thrusting. 

They went like that for a few minutes until Aziraphale pulled off for a moment, replacing his mouth with his hand. His lips were swollen and shining with spit and he was absolutely the most erotic thing Crowley had ever seen. 

“Talk to me, Crowley,” he said, his voice urgent. “Tell me what you like, what you want more of. Talk _dirty_ to me. Please.”

There was nothing he would deny Aziraphale, not if it was in his power to give, so he nodded. “Alright.” Aziraphale gave him another wicked smile and engulfed his cock again, urging Crowley to thrust once more. 

“Jesus, angel. Your mouth feels so good. It’s so hot and perfect. Do you like sucking me?”

Aziraphale gave a muffed ‘mhm’ but didn't break his rhythm. He removed his hands from Crowley’s hips and one went to fondle Crowley’s bollocks. The other disappeared from view. 

“You're so beautiful like this, with your mouth stretched around my cock. The most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I love you so bloody much.”

Aziraphale opened wider and took him deeper, until Crowley was hitting the back of his throat. He let out a guttural sound and bent over Aziraphale’s head a bit, his hands tightening in his hair. This apparently excited Aziraphale, who gave another filthy moan and sped up. 

“Fuck, angel. It’s so fucking good. _Shit_! Just like that. I’m getting close. You need to stop.”

Aziraphale gave a sound of denial, a muffled “hmm-mm”, and kept sucking Crowley. He was making wet, garbled sounds, and the hand that had been fondling his bollocks came back to encourage Crowley to thrust harder, faster. 

“You like me fucking your face, angel? _Shit!_ You want me to fuck your pretty mouth? I wonder if you’re going to swallow my come?”

An affirmative sound, and increased suction. Crowley was so close, so _fucking_ close to orgasm, he could feel it barreling towards him - and he surrendered. 

“Here I come, angel! Ah! Ah! Here I come! Shit!”

With a ragged cry of Aziraphale’s name, he erupted into his mouth. His vision whited out and it felt like every cell in his body exploded with pleasure. Dimly, he was aware of urgent sounds from Aziraphale, then a hot splash on his leg, but he couldn't care right then. He was lost to sensation, riding the high, and his cock emptied into his lover’s mouth. 

He regained his senses slowly, one at a time, and he remembered he was still holding onto Aziraphale’s head. He straightened as best he could and released Aziraphale’s hair, opening his eyes. Aziraphale sat on the bed before him, panting for breath as hard as Crowley, his hand around his own cock, covered in come. 

“Angel,” Crowley said, capable of nothing else. 

“Kiss me,” Aziraphale said, his voice breathy. 

Crowley bent down and did as requested, capturing his mouth in a sweet kiss. He could taste himself on Aziraphale’s tongue, and it gave him a little aftershock. _Fuck_ , he just loved him so much…

“I love you,” Aziraphale said when they broke the kiss. 

“Angel, I love you so much…”

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” 

“I’ll sleep with you every night, sweetheart.”

Working together, they cleaned up their mess and got into bed, shifting and moving until they were lying belly to belly in each other’s arms, exchanging sweet kisses and even sweeter words. Crowley sighed happily and sank into the pillows. 

“Was that good for you?” Aziraphale asked, stroking his hand along Crowley’s bare back. 

“Angel, that was the best orgasm of my life. I’m only sorry I wasn’t the one to make you come. I had wanted to make love to you.”

“We _did_ just make love.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. And we have all the rest of our lives. I can’t wait.”

“I can’t wait, either. I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too. I’m so eager to get started on our forever.”

Crowley gave him another soft kiss. “We already have.”


	13. Chapter 13

_Saturday, 29 May_

Sound check was rushed, the way it always was for awards shows, and the band was only allotted fifteen minutes to get everything sounding right. Crowley was pleased when it all went smoothly and they finished up with a few minutes to spare. Once they were done, they piled into the stretch limo that would take them back to the hotel to get ready for the show. 

“Well that went so smoothly, it makes me nervous,” Beezle said. 

“Lighten up. You’re always so dismal,” Hastur said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I’m not. It just always happens that way. Things go smoothly for a little while until something shitty happens. And the smoother the sailing before, the more catastrophic the shit.” 

“Right little ray of sunshine, you are,” Dagon chuckled. 

“Oh, fuck off. You know I’m right.”

“I don’t know anything, except I know better than to disagree with you. I’ve learned that lesson over fifteen years.”

“Fucking coward,” Bee sneered. “Crowley, tell them I’m right.”

Crowley looked up from his mobile and a text from Aziraphale. “Huh?”

“Tell them I’m right.”

“About what?”

“About how when things go so smoothly, that usually means there’s a fucking catastrophe waiting in the wings. Jesus. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

Beezle rolled their eyes. “Might have known. Head in the clouds lately.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Crowley groused without much heat. 

“What’s got you distracted?” Hastur asked. 

“Aziraphale,” Beezle said. 

“His new bloke,” Ligur supplied. 

“Ah, shit. I should have known. That’s still on, then? Going well?”

“Of course it’s still on, and it’s going fucking swimmingly,” Crowley said, finishing his text to Aziraphale then sliding his mobile into his pocket. 

“It seems so. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone else,” said Ligur. 

“Nor I.”

“I haven’t, either.”

“Me, neither.”

“Well, it stands to reason. I’ve never _felt_ this way about anyone else. I’m in love.”

Ligur, Dagon, and Hastur looked surprised, but Bee smirked. 

“You’ve only known this bloke - how long?” Hastur asked.

“Seven weeks on Monday.”

“Isn’t that too soon to be in love?” 

“Not at all,” Crowley replied with an easy smile. “There was _something_ there from the moment I met him.”

“That’s what happened when I met Danielle,” Ligur said. “I knew she was something special right away, and fell in love with her quickly.”

“Yeah, but that’s _you_ ,” Hastur pointed out. “You’re not a manwhore.”

“Oi!” Crowley protested while the others snickered. “I am not! Before I met Aziraphale, I’d been single for well over a year, I’ll have you know. Since Sofia and I split.”

“But you _have been_ a manwhore. Historically.”

“Well, yeah, once upon a time.”

“So you see why I’d be incredulous that you’re now in love.”

“I can see that you’re a hemmrhoidal arsehole,” he said good naturedly. 

Bee smirked. “Really, Hastur. You should see them together. It’s nauseatingly cute. He really is head over heels in love, and it shows.” 

“Well this I _have_ to see.”

“When are you going to bring him around?” Ligur asked. 

“I thought I’d bring him to our next dinner, if that’s okay.”

“I think I can wait,” Hastur said. “Your turn to host, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Crowley said. “You’re gonna love him.” 

“I’m sure we will, if you’re that mad about him,” Ligur said. 

“I’m not just mad about him. I’m gonna marry him.”

Hastur nearly choked on the water he was drinking, and Ligur looked wide-eyed. “You’re serious?”

“I’m deadly serious. I’m over the moon happy and fully intend to marry him one day.”

“And suck him into this crazy life?”

“I think he’ll be able to handle it.”

“I hope so, for your sake,” Bee said. 

“He’s tougher than you might think. Really. He seems like this quiet, unassuming guy, but he’s very strong willed. It’s one of the things I like best about him. But I’m going to keep him as protected from all of the shit as long as I can.”

“Good plan,” Hastur said approvingly. 

“Honestly, I hope you guys are in the mood to play a bunch of love songs, because that’s all I’ve been able to write for the last month and a half.”

“You’re not turning into a fucking sap, are you?”

Crowley gave them a wicked grin. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

“Fuck. Now I _have_ to meet this man.”

“I can’t wait to introduce you. As long as you arseholes promise to _behave_.” 

All four of them snorted. 

“We promise nothing,” Dagon said. 

He shot them all a warning look, but didn’t get to say anything before the limo pulled up to the hotel and the doorman was opening the door to let them out.

~*~O~*~

Four hours later, Crowley sauntered out of the hotel to the limo that would take him to the awards show. The others were coming in a separate limo - which grated on Crowley, but it had been that way for twenty years. His name was on the marquee, so he got more of the star treatment. It didn’t seem to bother the band, so he probably shouldn’t let it bother him, but it did. 

As he rode along, he pulled out his mobile. It was almost six in New York, so it was nearly eleven in London. Aziraphale should still be awake. He’d mentioned that he might watch the live coverage of the red carpet, and the thought simultaneously excited Crowley and made him nervous. 

He typed out a quick message.

Crowley: _in the limo, on the way._  
Aziraphale: _Are you excited?_  
Crowley: _not really. wishing you were here. x_  
Aziraphale: _I will be one day. Until then, I’ll watch you and smile. x_

They chatted for a few minutes about nothing, but it was enough to soothe Crowley’s nerves a bit. When they arrived at the venue, he sent a quick ‘I love you’ and a kiss before he pocketed his mobile and waited for the door to open. 

Once it did, he took a quick, deep breath and plastered on a smile, getting to his feet to the sound of deafening cheers and strobe-like flashbulbs. The sound of people cheering and calling his name was like a drug to him, the highest high he’d ever known - until he’d met Aziraphale. 

He pushed aside the thoughts of Aziraphale as best he could and went to the rope line to greet fans. He shook as many hands as possible and took a good many rushed selfies. When the red carpet director got impatient, she sent over a runner to fetch him. Crowley apologized to his fans with a smile before he went to do his job. 

Dutifully, he made his way down the red carpet, posing for photos and granting interviews. It was loud, so loud, and the lights were blinding, but anytime Crowley felt his smile start to fade, he simply thought of Aziraphale, watching at home. Christ, he couldn’t wait until Aziraphale could be with him for this, holding his hand. 

He was nearly to the end of the carpet, almost to the entrance of the show, when he was directed towards another interviewer in an evening gown. Crowley went, smiling pleasantly, although this would be his sixth interview of the night. Really, they all boiled down to the same questions. It was easy, once the stage fright subsided. 

“We’re here with Crowley. Crowley, thank you so much for agreeing to speak with us.”

 _Not like I’ve got a choice_ , he thought. 

Aloud, he said, “It’s my pleasure.”

“So let’s start with the basic question: who are you wearing tonight?”

Crowley looked down at his clothes - a slick, dark grey suit. 

“Hugo Boss.”

“Excellent. So, your tour ended a couple of months ago. What have you been up to since then?”

“Well, this tour was a long one - nine months - so I’ve mostly been decompressing. Getting back to normal life.”

“Have you been writing songs?”

Crowley laughed. “It seems I’m _always_ writing songs. Yes, I’ve written a few.”

“Are you eager to get back into the studio, or are you just taking time off?”

“A bit of both. I love writing and recording, but I very much enjoy a simple, quiet life when I get to have it.”

“When do you think you’ll be recording again?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably be back in the studio by the end of the year, I’d think. But I’m in no rush.” 

“Wonderful. We look forward to that. Now, there have been some rumors floating around lately that you’re in a new relationship. Would you care to comment?”

Crowley froze for a split second as she shoved the microphone into his face. His eyes were wide behind his glasses and it felt almost as if he’d had a little electric shock. As quickly as he could, he shook it off and gave her a smirking smile. 

“Now, you know perfectly well that you shouldn’t believe rumors…”

“So you deny being in a relationship? There’s no new woman in your life to tell us about?”

Crowley thought fast. He didn’t want to lie, but he supposed could be _partially_ honest. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but the only women in my life are my mother and my manager. And my most important relationship is with the fans.”

Thankfully, blessedly, the director called for him to move on, and he was able to make his excuses. He posed for a few more photos at the last stop on the red carpet, then the director released him to go inside. Crowley was grateful for the reprieve - he was rattled. As soon as he was able, he pulled out his mobile with shaky hands and texted Aziraphale. 

Crowley: _did you see that?_  
Aziraphale: _See what?_  
Crowley: _I was just asked if I’m in a relationship in an interview._  
Aziraphale: _What did you say?_  
Crowley: _I lied. I’m so fucking sorry._

He was forced to look up and be social for a minute. When he was free to look again, Aziraphale had replied. 

Aziraphale: _Don’t be sorry. I’m sure you did fine._  
Crowley: _Christ, I hope so_  
Crowley: _I have to go. People keep trying to talk to me._  
Aziraphale: _You go work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow._  
Crowley: _I’ll call you when I get up. Sleep sweet. I love you. xx_  
Aziraphale: _I love you, too. xx_

Crowley pocketed his phone and put on his best unaffected smile, then set about doing the schmoozing portion of his job.

~*~O~*~

_Sunday, 30 May_

Aziraphale sat at the table late the next morning, sipping his coffee and looking at his phone, ignoring the paper for now. He’d had a hard time getting to sleep after the texts from Crowley, which had put him on high alert. He’d spent a while searching youtube for footage of the interview Crowley had mentioned, but hadn’t been able to find it. Finally, after a fruitless search, he’d fallen asleep about one thirty or two. 

Staying up late had led to him sleeping late, and it had been nine before he’d stumbled into the kitchen in search of coffee and toast. As soon as he’d gotten his first cup of coffee in himself and felt a little more human, he’d pulled out his mobile and started to look for the interview again. He’d been much more successful this time, and had found it a half hour ago. 

Unable to help himself, he watched it now for the third time. 

_”Now, there have been rumors…_ ”

Aziraphale could see the flash of panic on Crowley’s face in that moment. It had been quick, so quick, but he’d seen it. It was the same thrill of terror Aziraphale had felt. But Crowey had shaken it off quickly.

 _”You know you shouldn’t listen to rumors…_ ”

Then the reporter had pushed him, and Crowley had denied everything. It stung a little, but Aziraphale understood. He was only sorry that Crowley had been put in that position because of him. 

His mobile rang, surprising him. Crowley’s name came up, as well as his photo, and Aziraphale smiled before he pressed the green button. 

“Hello, my love.”

“Hiya, angel.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes on a happy sigh, elated to hear his favorite sound in the world. “It’s so good to hear your voice, darling. But shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I couldn’t sleep for shit last night. And besides, my body thinks it’s almost ten, not almost five.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Because I was worried you were going to hate me.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Why on earth would I hate you, darling?”

“Because of what I said to that reporter. Sweetheart, I’m _so_ sorry, so fucking sorry…”

“Stop, Crowley,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Stop beating yourself up about it. You did what you had to do.”

“But I _hated_ it. I fucking _hated_ lying about you. I want to tell the _truth_. But I had to lie. I’m not ready for the press to burst our happy little bubble yet.”

“You did the right thing, Crowley. I don’t fault you for it one bit.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. I would have done the same thing, in your shoes.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not angry?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’m one hundred percent positive. I love you, darling. I could never hate you.”

“I love you, too. _Fuck._ I’m so relieved.”

“Oh, my darling one, I’m so sorry you were anxious. I wish I could have soothed you much sooner. Maybe you’d have slept better.”

“I’m fine, angel. Don’t worry about me. I’m only worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Crowley. Really.”

Crowley sighed on the other end of the line. “I hate to say it - I hate to even fucking _think_ it - but I suspect that’s only the beginning.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, I think the days of us keeping out of the media spotlight are numbered. I think we’re going to be discovered soon.” 

Aziraphale swallowed hard and closed his eyes. With as much certainty as he could muster, he said, “It’ll be alright, dear. I’m ready. Let them do their worst. I don’t care what any of them say or do, really, as long as they don’t hurt you. But they’re _not_ going to scare me off. Please don’t worry about that.”

“Do you really mean that?” Crowley said, sounding small.

Aziraphale squared his shoulders. “I do. I’m prepared to weather whatever storm they create, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face because I’ll be with you.”

Crowley was quiet a moment, then said, “Fuck, angel, I just love you so much.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I love you, too, dear.”

“I told Anathema about the question last night. She’s going to talk to my publicist, Mary, and they’re going to brainstorm plans.”

“Plans for what?”

“To try and control the story about me and you. It’ll probably entail me giving a couple of interviews or something.”

“Is that something you’re willing to do?”

“I’ll be happy to, if it takes some of the heat off you. It probably won't help, but I’m willing to try, if there’s a chance it might make your life even one bit easier.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I love you, too. Did you have a good time last night at all?”

Crowley yawned. “I guess. It was just a typical awards show. About the most exciting thing was when Ligur broke a bass string.”

“Oh, no! What did you do?”

“We just kept playing. It was only one song, and we were near the end anyway, so it didn’t make much difference.”

“I haven’t looked for video of the performance. I didn’t know if you’d want me to or not.”

“Do you want to?”

“I’d very much like to see you perform. I’d _like_ to see you perform live, but I guess I’ll have to wait a while for that.”

“Yeah, probably. If you’d like to watch, I won’t stop you.”

“Oh, good. Thank you, dear. I’ll watch as soon as we ring off.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“No, not at all. I have all day to talk to you.”

“I wish I had all day, too.”

“What do you have to do?” 

“More schmoozing, mostly. I have a radio interview at noon and then an interview and a photoshoot with Guitar Player magazine after that. When that’s done, we fly home.”

“What time does your plane land tonight?”

“One thirty in the morning.”

“Goodness. You’re going to be so tired.”

“I’ll be alright. Can I still take you to lunch tomorrow?”

“If you feel up to it.”

“I will. I promise. I’m already desperate to see you, to kiss you.”

“I’m anxious to see you, too.”

Crowley yawned again on the other end of the line, and Aziraphale said, “My darling, maybe you should ring off and sleep for a couple of hours.”

“I’d rather talk to you.”

“I’d rather talk to you, too, but you need to be at your best for those interviews. Plus, the more sleep you have now, the better you’ll likely feel tomorrow.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Go sleep for a while, darling. Dream of whatever you like best.”

“Then I’ll dream of you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Text you later?”

“I hope you do. Bye, angel.”

“Goodbye, Crowley.”

He hung up the phone and gave it a little smile. He wasn’t really worried about the paparazzi. It was going to be very unpleasant, he knew, but he could withstand it. Whatever he had to do to be with Crowley, he could do it. He knew he could. 

Shaking that off, he smiled even brighter and went to youtube to try and pull up the video of Crowley’s performance last night.


	14. Chapter 14

_Monday, 31 May_

The alarm went off, startling Crowley out of his sleep. He’d been having a good dream, where he was playing opening night of a tour at the O2 and Aziraphale was backstage, watching. But as pleasant as the dream had been, he was ready to be done with it. It was nearly time to go see Aziraphale, live and in person. 

He rolled out of bed, slapping the alarm to silence it, and stumbled to the kitchen, yawning and scratching idly at the hair on his bare chest, to brew the coffee. Once it was started, he went back to his bedroom, gathering his clothes for the day, and got into the shower. 

Even though he wasn’t supposed to arrive at the shop for a little less than an hour, he was too anxious to see Aziraphale to take his time in the shower. With quick, efficient motions, he rinsed the New York off of him in just a couple of minutes. After, he got himself dressed, applied his makeup, and went to the kitchen to drink his coffee while his hair dried. 

As he drank it, sitting at the kitchen table, he scrolled through his phone. It was mostly the same old alerts - same shit, different day - but he did have a message from Bee, sent two hours ago. 

Beezle: _Sorry, I meant to send this earlier. You’re cute together. Don’t fuck it up._

He checked the attachment to find a candid photo of he and Aziraphale taken at the Andrew Harris show a week or so ago. They were sitting at the table, their hands joined, and Aziraphale was looking up at the stage with a soft look on his face. Crowley also had a soft look on his face, but his eyes were locked on Aziraphale. 

Crowley stared at the photo for a minute, saved it, then sent back a reply to Beezle thanking them and opened his messages to Aziraphale. He debated for a moment before he sent the photo and a message. 

Crowley: _Bee took this photo and sent it to me. What do you think?_  
Aziraphale: _I think it’s lovely. You look so handsome._  
Crowley: _It’s all reflected glow from looking at you xx_  
Aziraphale: _Oh, stop. xx_

Crowley grinned, seeing his blush clearly in his mind’s eye, then typed out another message. 

Crowley: _I’m finishing my coffee then headed your way_  
Aziraphale: _I’ll be here. I love you. xx_  
Crowley: _I love you, too. See you soon. xx_

Crowley did his best to enjoy his coffee, scrolling his phone, fighting the urge to drink it all in two big gulps. No matter how fast he got there, Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to leave until Newt clocked in at one, so he’d just be spending the time sitting around the shop. It was fine. He had time, and he should enjoy the morning. 

That only lasted for about two minutes before he downed the coffee in two big gulps anyway and bolted out the door, headed towards Soho and his love.

~*~O~*~

Crowley deliberately parked a little away from the shop, so he could make a stop at the florist. He hadn’t brought Aziraphale flowers in almost two weeks, so it was past time. He ducked into the little florists’ shop, put together a bouquet, and set out towards Aziraphale’s, flowers in hand, whistling to himself. He’d be with his love in just a few minutes, and he could hardly wait.

He arrived at the front door at the shop at five minutes to one and stood aside, holding the door politely for a customer that was exiting. Then he stepped inside, his smile bright and happy. He didn’t see Aziraphale, but Tracy was there, behind the counter, smiling at him. 

“Oh, hello, Crowley.”

“Hi! Is Aziraphale here?”

“He’s in the rare book room with the man from the fireproofing company.”

“The fireproofing company?”

“Yes. He should be out in a minute. He was very much looking forward to seeing you today.”

Crowley grinned. “I feel exactly the same. I’m dying to see him.”

“How was New York?”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It was alright. Just work.”

“You must know all kinds of famous and fabulous people…”

“I know a lot of famous people, but that doesn’t automatically make them fabulous.”

“Oh, no, of course not. Do you know…”

Her words were thankfully cut off when they heard Aziraphale’s voice coming from the direction of the rare book room. 

“When will you be able to begin work? We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

“I’d say construction can start as soon as this week,” said another voice. 

“And how long would it take?”

“No more than a few days. A week, tops.”

“Oh, very good,” Aziraphale said, sounding pleased, then he rounded the corner with a man in a red polo shirt with a flame on the chest. He didn't see Crowley, and Crowey didn’t want to interrupt his work, so he slipped off quietly into the self help section, waiting for him to be done. 

A couple of minutes later, he heard the bells jingle and poked his head out. Aziraphale was standing at the counter with a folder in hand, looking down at some documents that the man had apparently left. Crowley’s heart felt lighter just looking at him, and he stepped out of the aisle fully, going towards the counter and his sweetheart. 

“Hiya, angel.”

Aziraphale looked up, his eyes wide, then his face morphed into a huge smile. Crowley had no idea who moved first, but the next thing he knew, they were locked in a fierce hug. 

“I missed you,” Aziraphale said into his shoulder. 

“I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

Then they were kissing, and it was exactly what Crowley had been needing. It felt like the first full breath he’d taken in days. They were both getting lost in the kiss, tongues exploring, when they heard a cleared throat from behind them. 

“So we’re kissing now, I see,” Tracy said, sounding highly amused. 

Aziraphale pulled out of Crowley’s arms, flushing, and Crowley felt his cheeks heat a bit, too. 

“How long has _that_ been going on?” she asked, smirking. 

“Oh, you nosy wretch,” Aziraphale grinned, cheeks still red. 

“I brought you something, sweetheart,” Crowley said, and presented him with the blue and white flowers. 

“Oh, Crowley, they’re stunning. White roses and hydrangeas?”

“Yes, plus lilies and a couple of carnations.”

“They’re beautiful. I love them,” he said, then pressed a quick kiss to Crowley’s lips. “I’ll be right back. Need to get a vase.” 

He toddled off towards the back room, and Crowley watched him go appreciatively. He loved the way the fabric pulled at Aziraphale’s arse and thighs, showing them off, and he couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn Aziraphale was wiggling his hips enticingly on purpose. He flushed bright red when he realized that Tracy was watching him watch Aziraphale. 

The bells jingled behind him, and Crowley turned to find Newt coming in. 

“Oh. Hello, Crowley,” he said, looking nervous. 

“Hi, Newt,” Crowley said with a smile. 

“I’ll just… get punched in,” Newt said, then ducked towards the way Aziraphale had gone. Crowley sighed. 

“Don’t mind him, dear. He’s just a bit starstruck. He’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Aziraphale appeared from the back with the flowers in a vase, and was smiling as he positioned them in a prominent place on the counter. “There,” he said. “Now everyone can see them. Are you ready to go, Crowley?”

Crowley made a show of offering his elbow. “I’m ready when you are, angel.”

Aziraphale took his elbow, smiling, and turned back to Tracy. “I’ll be back in about an hour, Tracy. Text me or call if you need me and I’ll come straight back.”

“We’ll be fine. You go have fun.”

“Yes, I think I will,” Aziraphale said, his eyes twinkling at Crowley. Crowley smiled back, utterly in love, and led the way out of the shop and onto the pavement.

~*~O~*~

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting at a table in a cozy corner of Aziraphale’s favorite little bistro, Rodrigo’s. It was quickly becoming Crowley’s favorite, too. Every place he visited with Aziraphale was suddenly his favorite.

Once the waitress left with their orders, Aziraphale took a sip of his pink lemonade and said, “So how did you sleep, my love?”

Crowley nearly melted when he called him ‘love’. Christ. He was the luckiest bastard that had ever lived. 

“I slept as well as could be expected, without you there.”

Aziraphale grinned. “You’ve only slept with me _one night_ , darling.”

“Well, I’m an instant addict. What can I say?”

That made Aziraphale laugh, and Crowley grinned, pleased. He reached across the table to hold Aziraphale’s hand, and was treated to a warm smile that made his insides curl when their hands touched. 

_Fuck._ He was so desperately in love. 

“So what’s this about fireproofing?”

“Oh, I’m being required to do it.”

“Required by whom?”

“By the insurance company. I wanted to insure some of my rare books, and they refused to issue a policy unless I had them in a fireproof room or container.”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes, I suppose so, too. I’m just slightly disgruntled at the _inconvenience_ of it all. But if I must do it, I suppose I must. I’m going to have the rare book room fireproofed first, and if it goes well, I’ll likely have the whole shop fireproofed.”

“Seems like a smart move.”

“It probably is, really. Books burn easily. I just want to see how it goes in the rare book room first.”

“That makes sense to me.”

“How was New York?” Aziraphale asked, smiling. 

“It was fine. I already told you all the most interesting parts.”

“It _all_ sounds interesting to me.”

“Well, soon, you’ll be in the thick of it, with me.”

“I’m very excited about that - but also nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous, angel. I promise you’ll do fine.”

“I trust you,” he said. “It’s _me_ I don’t trust.”

“Well, _I_ trust you. And I love you, too.”

Aziraphale smiled. “And I love you, darling.”

Crowley just gazed at him, staring into his blue eyes, until he snapped out of it. 

“I, um, I talked to the band and I’ve been _ordered_ to have you come to our dinner.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You’ve been _ordered_?”

“Yeah. They’re all anxious to meet you.”

“Well, I’ve already told you I’ll go. What’s it like? What should I expect?”

“It’s fun. We alternate who hosts, and it's my turn, so you’ll be on familiar territory. Everyone comes, and Dagon and Ligur bring their wives. If Hastur and Bee are dating someone, they bring them, too, but they’re both single for now. We all have dinner and drink too much, then more often than not, it ends in a big, drunken jam session.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It really is. Dagon and Ligur usually drink less, or their wives don't drink, so they can go home. Most of the time, though, Bee and Hastur get so plastered they end up spending the night.”

“Goodness. Does that mean you all have breakfast the next morning?”

“Nah. They both slink off when they come to.”

“Well, it sounds fun. I assume Dagon and Ligur’s wives don’t join in the… jam session?”

“Sometimes they’ll hang around and watch. Sometimes they just sit in the lounge and drink wine and chat. They’re best friends, so they like to spend time together.”

“Are they nice?” Aziraphale asked, sounding a little hesitant.

“They’re both very nice, and you’ll be welcome to join them if you don’t want to be in the studio,” Crowley said, hoping to ease his mind. 

It seemed as if he’d said the right thing. “Oh, good. I’m glad to hear that. I’m afraid I’ll feel terribly out of place in the studio.”

“You can do whatever you want, angel. We may not even _have_ a jam session. We might just sit around and talk. Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

“Oh, please don’t change plans on my account…”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

“What about your mother? You had mentioned you’d like for me to meet her after you got back.” 

“I would, yes. She’s anxious to meet you as well. Would you be willing to have dinner with her Friday? We could order catering from that restaurant again, if you’d like.”

“I think that sounds lovely. I’ll see if Newt will stay and close with Tracy so I can be off.”

“Excellent. That’s fucking excellent.”

~*~O~*~

A short while later they were on the pavement, hand in hand, walking back to the shop. Crowley was walking as slow as he could, dreading the end of their time together.

“Are you busy tonight, angel?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Not at the moment. Would you like to change that?”

“Fuck yes, I would.”

“Well, I’m amenable. What do you have in mind?”

“I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. I was just hoping to get you to agree to see me, then I’d come up with something brilliant.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Well, I’m agreeing, so it’s time for you to come up with something.”

Crowley was opening his mouth to say something when he spotted a person across the street with a camera aimed at him and Aziraphale. He felt his blood run cold at the sight, his whole body tensing. 

As soon as Crowley saw him, the photographer was gone, vanished in the crowd. He was gone so quickly, Crowley wasn’t sure he’d seen what he’d thought. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. 

“Crowley? What’s wrong, darling?”

“I thought I saw a photographer.”

“Oh, no.”

“He’s gone now. I may not have seen anything at all. I may be delusional.”

“Well, this is going to sound strange, but I hope you are.”

“I hope I am, too,” Crowley said with feeling. “But to be on the safe side, I’m not going to kiss you until we’re safely inside.” 

“I think that’s probably wise. Should we not be holding hands?”

“Probably not, but I’m not willing to let go.”

Aziraphale grinned at him, understanding him perfectly. “I love you, too.”

Crowley gave him a smile, loving him so much he couldn’t stand it.

“In light of what you may have just seen, should we stay in tonight?”

“Well, I think I should leave that up to you.”

“What do _you_ think?”

“I have mixed feelings. On one hand, I fucking _hate_ feeling like I need to hide. Even when the press attention is at its heaviest, I try to go on with my normal life as best I can. Damn the torpedoes.”

Aziraphale was quiet for a second, then said, “But on the other hand…”

“On the other hand, I really do want to avoid the attention as long as I can. Not for my sake, for your sake. For _our_ sake.”

“That’s understandable. Why don’t we stay in? Tonight, at least. You’re just getting back from a work trip, you’re going to need a little while to decompress.”

“That would be nice.”

“And we can talk about what to do a bit more.”

“That sounds good, too. Your place or mine?”

“Let’s say mine, since I have to get up for work in the morning.”

Crowley shot him a grin. “Am I spending the night?”

“Let’s just see where the evening takes us,” Aziraphale said, coy. 

Crowley chuckled, delighted, and lifted the hand he held to press a kiss to the back of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really struggling with writer’s block. It feels like the muse has completely abandoned me. Cross your fingers it comes back?


	15. Chapter 15

_Friday, 4 June_

Aziraphale hadn’t been at Crowley’s for very long, only about five minutes, and so far, Crowley had spent the whole time trying to soothe Aziraphale’s rampant (and obvious) nerves.

“She’s going to love you, angel. You’re going to be her favorite person.” 

“Oh, I _highly_ doubt that,” Aziraphale said, a small smile breaking through his anxiety. 

“I’m serious. I’ve got ten quid that says she proposes to you on my behalf by the end of the night.”

Aziraphale let out a little laugh at that. “You’re so silly.”

“I’m only halfway joking. You’ll see.”

The nerves were back. “Has she met many of your partners?” Aziraphale asked, unsure why he was doing so. 

“No, I’ve only ever introduced her to a couple of people, and none at all in the last ten years or so. I’ve _never_ introduced her to someone so soon. I told you, angel, you’re special.”

That warmed Aziraphale and soothed him just a bit. He squeezed Crowley’s hand in gratitude. 

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

Before Crowley could answer, the doorbell rang. Both of them looked towards the sound, and Aziraphale’s heart rate picked up. 

“That’s her. No, you don’t need to know anything else. Relax, sweetheart. She’s going to love you.”

Aziraphale gave an uncertain nod. “Alright.”

Crowley pressed a quick kiss to his lips, squeezed his hand, and said, “I love you. I’ll be right back.”

Unable to answer, he just gave another nod. 

Crowley disappeared into the foyer, leaving Aziraphale alone in the lounge to wait. He nervously smoothed his waistcoat, tugging it down, hoping it looked alright. He’d been wearing it all day at work. Maybe he should have changed? Oh, it was too late now. There was nothing to do for it but hope that Crowley’s mother didn’t think he was unkempt and rumpled. 

It seemed as if Crowley was gone for six thousand years, but in reality, less than a minute had passed before he was back in the lounge, smiling, leading a woman that was very clearly his mother. 

Crowley’s mother was a petite woman, stylishly dressed in a pair of slacks and a smart, flowered blouse. She looked very much like Crowley, Aziraphale thought, but the angles of her face were softened somewhat. She had red hair shot with grey and tied in a bun, and her eyes were the same golden shade as her son’s. She was wearing a kind smile, which made Aziraphale relax just a bit. 

“Aziraphale Fell, meet my mother. Lucy Crowley. Mum, this is Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale stepped forward, his hand extended and a smile on his face. “It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Crowley.”

“Oh, please do call me Lucy. And it’s my very great pleasure to meet _you_ , Aziraphale.”

Crowley was smiling as if he’d never seen anything that pleased him more, rocking a bit from his heel to his toe and back. 

“Come on in, Mum, and have a seat. We’ll chat until the food gets here.”

Lucy followed his direction to sit on the armchair, and Aziraphale took a seat on the couch. To his great surprise, Crowley sat down right beside him and draped an arm around him. He gave Crowley an uncertain look, but Crowley just winked at him. 

“Aziraphale, Anthony has told me a great deal about you,” Lucy said. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale replied. “I do hope they’ve been good things.”

Lucy smiled. “All wonderful things. In fact, they’ve been _so_ wonderful, I’ve wondered if he was stretching the truth a bit.”

“I haven’t been, Mum. Aziraphale really is just that perfect.”

Aziraphale flushed and Crowley kissed his temple.

“So, Aziraphale, Anthony tells me you’re forty-two.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you’re from London?”

“Yes.”

“And you run a bookshop in Soho, is that right?”

“That’s right. I’ve been running it for the last eighteen years.”

“What types of books?”

“All types, but we do have a large selection of rare and antiquarian books.”

Crowley nudged him. “Tell her about the misprinted bibles. She’ll get a kick out of that.”

They chatted lightly about little topics for a few minutes, just getting to know one another better. Gradually, Aziraphale’s nerves calmed down a little, and he was able to relax. Crowley’s mother really did seem to be a very sweet person, and he liked her tremendously already. She actually reminded him a bit of his own mother, in all the best ways. He felt sure that given the time, he was going to come to love Lucy Crowley, too.

The doorbell rang again, and Crowley jumped to answer it. “That’ll be the food.”

“Can I help you with it, sausage?”

“Or me?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Nah. I can get this. You two chat.” He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple, then was gone.

It was slightly more awkward without Crowley, and Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was trying to think of something when she turned to him with a kind smile. 

“Anthony told me how you two met. Is it true you didn’t know who he was?”

“Oh, yes, that’s true. A bit embarrassing in hindsight…”

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. It’s good for him to be taken down a peg every now and again. You gave my boy a good lesson in humility.”

“Well, it wasn’t intentional. I knew he must be someone important, but I had no idea who he was. You see, my tastes in music tend to be a bit old-fashioned. I’m not familiar with much modern music, and it left me ignorant of who he was.”

“I see,” Lucy said, smiling. Then she leaned forward. “May I ask you something, Aziraphale? Well, I suppose it’s less of a question than it is a concern.”

 _That_ had Aziraphale right back to being anxious. But he said, “Of course,” and cleared his throat. 

“I’m worried about you. When Anthony first made it big, he had a hard time adjusting to fame. It was his dream to be a big rock star, but it was still jarring to him. He struggled with the loss of anonymity. And I wonder about you, when you find yourself at the center of the storm that’s about to hit.”

Aziraphale relaxed a little and gave a reassuring smile. “I have to admit, I’m a bit worried, but not terribly. I’m sure it’s going to be unpleasant, but I’m willing to put up with it to be with Crowley.”

She gave him a smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve prayed for Anthony to meet his match since he was a teenager, and I’m terribly excited to see he finally has. He’s always been a bit of a drifter, never really settling down. Even in the relationships he had, he has never been as _happy_ as he seems to be with you. He seems anchored, in the best possible way. My son is _glowing_ in a way I’ve never seen him glow before, and it’s all down to you. I’m so happy he met you.”

Aziraphale felt tears prick his eyes. “I’m happier to hear that than I could possibly tell you.”

Crowley poked his head in the door. “Are you lot still getting on?”

“We’re fine, dear,” Lucy said. 

“You haven’t told him any embarrassing stories, have you?”

“Not yet, but the night is young,” she replied, her golden eyes twinkling. 

Crowley chuckled. “I’ll keep a close watch on you, then. But for now, you need to come eat. Dinner’s getting cold.”

“We’ll be right there.”

~*~O~*~

Ninety minutes later, Aziraphale and Crowley were saying goodbye to Lucy in the foyer of Crowley’s flat. She hugged Crowley tight, squeezing his neck.

“You take care, sausage. Behave yourself and ring me Tuesday.”

“I will, Mum.”

She released the hug and turned to Aziraphale. To his very great surprise, he found himself wrapped up in a tight hug. 

“Aziraphale, it was my honor to meet you. You’re an answer to prayer, and you make me very happy. I hope you’ll stay around for a long, long time.”

He hugged her back, a little nonplussed - but with his eyes stinging a bit. “I plan to stay as long as Crowley will have me.”

“Forever, then,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale opened his eyes to see him smiling at them. 

She broke the hug and withdrew, patting him on the cheek. Aziraphale just smiled. 

“Well,” she said when she released him. “You boys take care of each other, won’t you?”

“We will, Mum.”

“Very good. I’ll talk to you on Tuesday, sausage. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Aziraphale, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you,” he said, unsure of what else to say. 

With a final wave, she let herself out, and suddenly they were alone. Crowley let out a huge sigh. 

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah. I’m just relieved things went so well.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him. “You were the one telling me they would all be fine.”

“I know, and I knew they would be. It’s still a tense situation.”

“Oh, you wretch,” Aziraphale grumbled. 

Crowley chuckled, caught his hand, then kissed the knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you for doing this for me.”

“It was my pleasure, Crowley.”

“Did she propose to you on my behalf?”

Aziraphale grinned. “No, she didn't. I’m afraid you’re going to have to do that on your own.”

“I can’t wait,” Crowley said, his eyes twinkling.

“I can’t either.”

Crowley kissed his knuckles again. “Say, angel, it’s only 8:30. Do you need to go home for any reason?”

“Not yet. But I have work tomorrow at ten.”

“Would you like to stay with me a little while? We could pull up a film on Netflix and watch it.”

“That sounds lovely, dear.”

“Then come on,” Crowley said, pulling him by the hand into the lounge. “Let’s start a movie so I can hold you.”

Aziraphale was only too happy to comply.

~*~O~*~

Crowley was in a fantastic mood as he was driving through Soho on his way back from dropping Aziraphale off. They’d spent the evening together after his mum had left, watching movies and cuddling. Honestly, Crowley thought it might have been one of the best nights of his life. They hadn’t done anything special together, really, but that was the magic of Aziraphale. Even the mundane was magical with him.

He couldn’t have been any more pleased about the way his mother and Aziraphale had gotten along. They’d taken to each other easily, the way Crowley had known they would, and although he hadn’t talked to his mother privately yet, he could tell from her reactions to Aziraphale that she liked him very much and approved heartily. Crowley was terribly relieved. He’d felt certain it would be that way, but was still glad to know that he’d been right. 

Crowley had tried to get Aziraphale to spend the night tonight, wanting to hold him all night, but Aziraphale had insisted laughingly that he needed to go home. Crowley had pouted, but it had only been for show. It had had the desired effect, though, and Aziraphale had kissed his pout away. 

He wondered how long they needed to be dating before he whisked Aziraphale off on a holiday somewhere. He wanted to take Aziraphale to all kinds of places, to show him the world. One place he wanted to take him was to a tropical island, like Aziraphale had said he wanted to visit. That could be fun, he thought. Crowley could rent a beachfront cabana or something and they could sit by the pool and sip drinks. Or watch the sunset together, hand in hand. Maybe, if the place was deserted enough, they could make love by the sea. _That_ was an idea. Maybe he could…

His mobile rang, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to see that it was Anathema. He debated on answering, but he hadn’t talked to her at all since he got back from New York, and it might be important. With a roll of his eyes, he swiped the screen and answered it. 

“What do you want?” he snapped good naturedly. 

“And a happy Friday evening to you, too,” she said through the speakers, unperturbed as always. “Have you got a minute?”

“Yeah. I’m driving. What’s up?”

“I’m calling to talk to you about the Aziraphale thing.”

“Don’t call my relationship a ‘thing’,” he snapped, slightly _less_ good naturedly. “What about him?”

“There have been a couple of paparazzi photos of you with him. So far, they aren’t incriminating, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Crowley felt his mood sour a bit more. “I don’t think I like the word ‘incriminating’, as if I'm doing something illegal by dating the man I love.”

“You’re right, that was a poor word choice. But you know what I meant.”

“I do,” he said begrudgingly. “Is there speculation about who he is yet?”

“No, but it won’t be long. And given what you were asked Saturday night on the red carpet…”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, his frown deepening. _Fuck_.

“I’d say you’ve got two or three weeks, tops.”

He sighed. “Well that’s just fucking great. Have you talked to Mary Hodges yet?”

“I did. Just got off the phone with her, actually. And we’ve come up with a plan. There are three options, and you can choose which one you like best.”

“Well, tell me.”

“The first plan is to let the story break. When it _does_ break, we’ll schedule a couple of interviews with friendly publications. Maybe a chat show or two. You can tell the world that you’re dating Aziraphale and blissfully happy.”

“Won’t that make it _worse_?”

“It might, for a time, but the idea is that if you’re answering all the questions posed to you, the press will be less likely to hound you for an extended period. They’re more likely to go away sooner.”

“That seems like a fucking long shot.”

“It probably _is_ a long shot, but it's the best we’ve got.”

“What are my other options?”

“You do nothing. You maintain a media silence after the story breaks, not speaking to anyone, and just let it run its course. But we believe the press attention will be more intense and last longer if you do that.”

“Fuck. You’re probably right. What’s my final option?”

“The other idea is for you to do the interviews, just like in option one, but you do them _before_ the press finds out about you and Aziraphale. You break the story yourself.”

“And bring the vultures down on us intentionally? That’s just inviting them to my life!”

“I know, I know. But the same principle applies. If they’re getting all the answers they want, they’re less likely to bug you. It’ll still be bad for a while, but it’ll probably die down quicker. We can control the story to an extent this way. The best way to handle a story is to get out in front of it, you know this.”

“Fuck. There is no good option.”

Anathema sounded sympathetic. “I know you don’t like this, but it’s the reality.”

“Fuck,” Crowley swore again. Then he sighed. “I need to think about this and talk to Aziraphale. Definitely need to talk to Aziraphale. His decision will be what we go with.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure. Whatever he wants to do, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want. But you’re on a timetable here. If you’re going to break the story yourself, which is what I think you should do, we need to move quickly.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Can you let me know something by early next week? Wednesday at the latest.”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” 

“Just let me know.”

“I will. Do you need anything else?”

“No, not right now. Are you alright?”

“Well, I’m less fucking alright than I was when you called, but I’ll live.”

“I’m sorry to do this, Crowley. But it’s the reality, and you know it.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No, you don’t. Do you need anything from me?”

“I need you to stop pouring cold water on my relationship with Aziraphale.”

“This should be the last time, Crowley. Honestly. Just get through this and it’ll be smooth sailing, I expect.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right. So talk to Aziraphale and you two decide. I’ll ring you on Wednesday to find out what you’ve come up with, if I haven’t already heard from you.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to you then,” he said, unenthusiastically. 

“Have a good night, Crowley,” she said, then she rang off. 

He banged the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. _Fuck_ , he was dreading having this conversation. He was dreading the press attention - he was dreading all of it. Why couldn’t he just be happy?

Then he shook himself. He _would_ be happy. He’d be with Aziraphale, and that was the happiest thing he could think of. The press attention would fucking suck, but he could deal with it. He could deal with a world of demons for the sake of his angel. 

Crowley drove the rest of the way home in a mixed mood, hopeful but still less chipper than he had been previously, planning how and when to talk to Aziraphale.


	16. Chapter 16

_Monday, 7 June_

Crowley woke slowly, by degrees, his senses coming online one by one. He realized very quickly that he was naked and wrapped around Aziraphale and smiled without opening his eyes, snuggling closer. 

It was unusual for Aziraphale to stay over on a work night, but Crowley had been at his charming best last night. Even though they’d spent the entirety of Sunday together, he just hadn’t been willing to let Aziraphale out of his sights. There were many joys to being with Aziraphale, too many to count, really, but Crowley had to believe that getting to hold Aziraphale, to cuddle him, to wake up wrapped in each other’s arms was one of the _greatest_ joys. It had only happened a couple of times so far, but Crowley was already an addict. He wanted to wake up with Aziraphale every morning, every single morning of his existence. He wanted to _live_ with Aziraphale, to build a _life_ with him, to marry him at some point. He wanted all the things he’d been eschewing for the better part of his life - all the trappings of domestic bliss. And he wanted them with Aziraphale. 

But first, they had to go through the trial by fire that he knew the press finding out about them would be. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Anathema was right, it was going to be a shitstorm either way, but he was on the fence about whether to try and get out ahead of the story, as Anathema had suggested, or just try to mitigate the damage when the story broke. Either way was going to be a fucking nightmare, but he was willing to do anything and everything to keep Aziraphale out of the crossfire as much as he could. He really needed to talk to Aziraphale about this, to give him the options. And he would, he really would. He’d meant to last night, but had lost his nerve. Maybe he could do it today. It needed to be soon, he knew. 

Aziraphale stirred on the bed in front of him, making a sleepy sound and moving against Crowley. Crowley smiled softly, reaching for Aziraphale’s hand and threading their fingers, pressing light kisses to his shoulder. 

“Good morning, angel.”

“Hmm. Good morning, darling.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I always sleep well with you.”

Crowley kissed a freckle on his shoulder. “Good. Maybe that means you’ll sleep with me more, then.”

“I’d love to.” Aziraphale gave a yawn. “What time is it?” he asked, then stretched to look at the clock and answered his own question. “It’s early yet. I don’t have to be at the shop for another two hours or so. So I have about an hour before I have to leave here.”

“I wish you didn't have to leave at all.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I wish so, too. But I have to get home so I can shower and change clothes before work.”

“Why don’t you bring a change of clothes or two so you can shower and change here instead of having to go home?”

Aziraphale went very still. “Are you sure?”

Crowley’s heart was beating fast, the gravity of what he was offering not lost on him. “I am. I’ll clean out a drawer for you, if you want, today while you’re working. And I have loads of closet space.”

“Crowley…”

Panicked, he tried to backtrack. “It was just a thought. You don't have to. I just thought… it would be convenient.”

Aziraphale rolled over to face him, and Crowley tried to look away, embarrassed, but couldn’t. Aziraphale just gave him a small, tentative smile and reached up to touch his face.

“Oh, my love, do you know what you’re saying?”

He nodded. “I do.”

“Clearing out a drawer for your significant other is a big deal. Are you sure you want to do that, when we’ve only been together for two months? Not even two months quite yet.”

Crowley stroked his back, his eyes pleading with Aziraphale to understand. “I know it’s a big deal, and I know it’s very soon, but that’s what I want. I want you to be able to spend the night with me at any time. Honestly, I want you to spend _every_ night with me. I want this to be your home.”

Aziraphale’s smile was bright, but unsure. “You _do_?”

Crowley nodded. “I do. I want that so badly, angel. And I want it soon.”

The angel stroked his hand down Crowley’s cheek, his eyes searching his face, still smiling a small smile. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I love you, too, angel.”

“I’d very much like to move in here one day. One day fairly soon.”

Crowley brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yes, I would. But I’m not _quite_ ready to do that yet. I’d still like to maintain my home for a while longer. I’m very attached to it.”

“Yeah, no, I understand.”

“I propose a deal, in the interim.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll bring a couple of changes of clothes over here so I can spend the night. But I want _you_ to bring a couple of changes of clothes to _my_ flat so we can stay there some nights, too.”

Crowley smiled brilliantly. “Angel, I’d _love_ to do that.”

“Very good. I’ll clean out a drawer for you at my place tonight.”

Crowley couldn’t wait another moment, he darted forward to kiss Aziraphale’s smile. “I’ll get a key cut today.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “A key?”

“Yes, and I’ll alert the building’s security that you’re to be let in any time you come.” 

“That’s… a bit more than what we just agreed to do.”

“Is it too much?”

Aziraphale’s smile was soft. “Oh, no. I didn’t say that. I think it’s just right. I’ll have a key made for you today, too.”

Crowley kissed him again, overjoyed and in love, then pulled him into a full-body embrace. “Thank you, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He held him like that for a little while, their bodies pressed together, arms wrapped each other and legs tangled, hearts beating in sync. Crowley didn’t think he’d ever been happier in his life than he was right then. 

Eventually, he released the hug and pulled back a little. Crowley kissed his smile sweetly and lay his head down on the pillow, their faces inches apart. 

“You make me so goddamn happy, sweetheart. I can’t even express it.”

“You make me happy, too, Crowley.”

Crowley kissed him again. “Good. I hope I always do.”

“I’m sure you will. Now… we have a bit of time to kill before I have to go home,” Aziraphale said leadingly, stroking his fingertips up and down Crowley’s shoulder. His eyes were averted and he had a coy smile on his face. It made Crowley’s cock twitch. 

“We do. What would you like to do?”

Aziraphale slid a hand between them to cup Crowley’s rapidly hardening cock. “I have some ideas…”

“I can’t wait to hear all of them.”

He wrapped his hand around Crowley and started to pump. “How big is your shower?”

“It’s huge. Vast,” Crowley said eagerly. 

“What would you say to taking a shower together?”

“Sweetheart, that would literally be a fantasy come to life.”

He grinned. “For me, too. So I think we should do that. Let’s take a shower together and start the day off right.”

“Fuck, yes. I’m ready.”

“And Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Don’t forget the lubricant.”

“Fuck. I won’t.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “So what are you waiting for?”

Crowley kissed Aziraphale hard, then rolled away, getting out of bed as quickly as he was able, grabbing the lube from the bedside table and rushing into the bathroom. When he was starting the water, he felt Aziraphale’s arms go around his waist and his love started pressing kisses to his shoulders. 

“How, um, how hot do you like your water?”

Aziraphale reached his hand into the spray. “I think it’s fine the way it is.”

“Good. Great. Let’s go,” Crowley said urgently, then pushed a giggling Aziraphale into the shower, closing the glass door behind them. 

He hardly took the time to put the bottle of lubricant down before he had his hands on Aziraphale, pushing him backwards into the wall and kissing him desperately. Aziraphale kissed him back, his arms around Crowley, pulling them close. Crowley let his hands wander all over Aziraphale’s perfect body as they kissed, touching and caressing as much as he could, grinding his cock against Aziraphale’s. Their kiss was deep, slow, and messy, and it only sparked Crowley’s desire higher. 

When the need for oxygen became too great, Crowley broke the kiss and set to work on Aziraphale’s neck, kissing and licking. He quickly found his favorite spot - the place where Aziraphale’s pulse fluttered - and set about sucking it. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, his hands wound into Crowley’s hair. 

Crowley released his neck, pleased to see he’d left a mark of possession. Good. 

“Yeah, angel?”

“I think I want you to fuck me.”

He flexed his fingers in the flesh of Aziraphale’s bum and bit gently on his shoulder. “Is that what you want?”

“Very much.”

“Well, I’m hardwired to give you everything you want. But I’m not quite ready to do that just yet.”

Aziraphale rolled his hips forward, grinding them together again. “It feels like you’re more than ready, dear.”

“Minx,” Crowley crooned, kissing a line down his shoulder. “I very much want to fuck you, angel. But I want to play with you a bit first. I wasn’t lying, I’ve fantasized about having you in the shower. I want to take advantage of the fact that you’re here.” 

“What would you like to do?”

Crowley sucked an earlobe. “I’d like to start by washing you. Can I?”

“Yes, darling. Oh, yes.”

He grinned against his ear, then pulled back to give Aziraphale some space. “Rinse your hair for me. I want to start with your head and work my way down to your toes.”

Aziraphale stepped around him, into the spray, putting his head under the water. Crowley watched the water running down his body eagerly while he got some shampoo into his hand. Once Aziraphale was done, he stepped out of the water and Crowley reached up to apply the shampoo, massaging it into his scalp. Aziraphale closed his eyes and moaned. 

“That feel good, angel?”

“It’s heavenly, darling.”

“Good.” 

Aziraphale stepped back into the spray and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, and once again, Crowley watched him hungrily, planning all of the things he would do to this man. All the filthy, filthy things. He stroked himself lightly. 

When Aziraphale was done, he opened his eyes to look at Crowley, and Crowley nearly melted from the _heat_ in his gaze. _Fuck_. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted Aziraphale. 

He pulled Aziraphale to his body, kissing him hard, reaching blind to find the bar of soap to wash him with. Once he had it, he broke the kiss and stepped back to gaze at Aziraphale. He was hard, so incredibly hard, and his cock was arched towards his belly, flushed purple and begging for attention. Crowley wanted to give it to him, but not quite yet. 

He started washing Aziraphale, running his soapy hands all over wet skin, not missing a spot. Slowly and deliberately, he covered every inch of Aziraphale’s front with his hands and the soap, worshiping him. When he’d done all of Aziraphale’s front, he turned him around to face the wall and started washing his back, paying special attention to his arse. The soapy water formed rivulets that sluiced down his back, over his arse, and Crowley was entranced. His cock was _dying_ for a little friction, so, feeling wicked, he pressed up behind Aziraphale and slid his cock between his angel’s slick thighs. 

“You’re so sexy, angel,” Crowley said as he started to thrust. “So fucking sexy, I can’t stand it.”

Aziraphale closed his legs to make it tighter for Crowley. “Oh, Crowley. You make me so hot…”

Crowley dropped the soap and fucked his thighs lazily for a few minutes, his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, nibbling his ear, pantomiming what he planned to do soon. He could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of Aziraphale’s bollocks and it added to his pleasure. With a soapy hand, he reached around and grabbed Aziraphale’s cock, pumping it slowly. 

“Fuck, Crowley…”

“Don’t come yet, angel,” Crowley said between kisses to his shoulders. 

“I - I won’t.”

“Your thighs are perfect, sweetheart. I love them. I’ve been dying to fuck them.”

“You have?”

“Christ, yes. And the next time I get you in the shower, I’d like to fuck them until we both come. Would you like that?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“Then I will. But for now, you asked me to fuck you properly, and I think I should do as you asked. Don’t you?”

“Please, Crowley, please.”

Crowley pressed a last kiss to his shoulder, then released his cock and stepped back. “Rinse off, then come back to me.”

Aziraphale hastened to obey, stepping into the spray to rinse off the suds while Crowley watched, lazily pumping his cock. After Aziraphale was clean, he stepped out of the spray and Crowley rinsed himself quickly, then kissed him hard, turning him around so his back was to the wall again. Once he was in place, Crowley ground against him, loving the way Aziraphale clutched him desperately. 

“Can I suck you for a while?” Crowley asked against his mouth. Aziraphale nodded, wide eyed, and Crowley grinned before he pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you, angel. I love you.”

Aziraphale’s answer of ‘I love you, too,’ was barely heard as Crowley dropped to his knees in front of Aziraphale, putting that gorgeous cock at eye level. He reached up to pump it a couple of times, eyeing the little pearl of moisture that appeared at the tip, then darted his tongue out to catch it. Aziraphale hissed a breath and Crowley looked up at him, his eyes blazing. With a wicked smile, and with his eyes locked on Aziraphale, he opened his mouth and took the head of Aziraphale’s cock in. 

Aziraphale moaned and Crowley did too, both of them closing their eyes. Aziraphale tasted so good, so goddamn _good_... he didn’t think he’d ever get enough. He was delighted when Aziraphale reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair. 

“The mouth on you, my darling… your clever tongue…”

Crowley swirled his tongue around the head, gathering the taste, before he started sucking. That earned another moan and Aziraphale’s hands tightening in his hair. 

“Oh, my love, you’re so good, so good to me… suck me harder…”

He was eager to obey and started bobbing his head on Aziraphale’s cock, setting up a rhythm, hollowing his cheeks with each upstroke. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, so gorgeous… I love you so much…”

Crowley opened his mouth to take him deeper, loving the way his lips stretched around Aziraphale’s thickness. 

“Oh, my darling, I’m not going to last long…”

He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to suck Aziraphale until he came down his throat, then swallow every drop of his taste. But Aziraphale had asked to be fucked, and Crowley wanted to give him exactly what he wanted. 

So he sucked for a few more strokes, then pulled off, looking up at Aziraphale. His blue eyes were hooded and clouded with lust, his mouth open to facilitate his breathing, his chest heaving. Crowley smiled up at him, loving him so much it hurt, then used his hands on Aziraphale’s hips to guide him. 

“Turn around and bend a little.”

Aziraphale groaned, but obeyed, turning around and presenting his perfect peach of an arse to Crowley. Crowley just stared at it for a minute, kneading the globes of it, savoring the anticipation. He leaned forward to press a kiss to each cheek, squeezing them. 

“Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

Crowley used his thumbs to part his cheeks and dove in, tongue first. He didn’t hesitate before he started massaging at that little knot, swirling his tongue around it, licking eagerly. He ate of him like a man starving, devouring his arse like a four course meal. 

Aziraphale was a symphony of sounds: moans and cries and broken pleas. 

“Ah! Ah! Crowley! Oh, God, it feels so good!”

Crowley’s face was dripping and he had no idea if it were from the water or his saliva, but it didn’t matter. He _loved_ doing this, _loved_ making Aziraphale feel this way, and would happily eat him out for hours. Aziraphale’s hips thrust into nothing, and Crowley briefly considered bringing him off that way, but discarded it. He wanted to give Aziraphale what he’d asked for. He wanted to _fuck_ him. 

Aziraphale was senseless, babbling and pleading, banging his fist against the wall every now and then, making the bottles jump. 

“Crowley! Ah! Ah! Your tongue, dear… oh God! It’s so good! Please, dear… please fuck me… I need you to fuck me!”

Crowley didn’t need to be told twice. He laid one more sucking kiss to Aziraphale’s hole, then got to his feet quickly, pressing his body against Aziraphale’s so his chest was against Aziraphale’s back and his cock rested between his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s torso and started laying kisses on his neck. 

“Love you, angel. Love you so much.”

Aziraphale was out of breath when he answered. “I love you, too, darling.”

Crowley sucked another mark into his neck, then pulled back a little, reaching for the lubricant. Once he had it, he slicked his fingers and slid them between Aziraphale’s cheeks, seeking out his hole. Aziraphale made a little noise when he found it, and Crowley started massaging it gently while he kissed Aziraphale’s neck all over. After just a couple of minutes, Aziraphale had relaxed enough that Crowley could ease a finger in. Aziraphale gave a filthy moan when he did that made the red haired man smile. 

“You alright?”

“God, yes. Give me more.”

Crowley obliged, slowly adding another finger. 

“Fuck,” Aziraphale swore. 

“Still alright?”

“I’m so much better than alright.”

“Do you want more fingers?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I want you to fuck me. I _need_ you to fuck me.”

Crowley was near desperate to do so, but determined to make Aziraphale completely ready. He continued to fuck Aziraphale on his fingers until Aziraphale whimpered. “Please, Crowley. Please, I need you _now_. I’m ready, dear. _Please._ ”

“Yes, sir,” Crowley said. He placed one last kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder and withdrew his fingers, earning a moan from Aziraphale. As quickly as he could, he slicked up his cock, slid it between Aziraphale’s cheeks, and nudged his hole. 

“Are you ready, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded, his breathing ragged. “I’m ready. Please.”

Crowley pressed forward until he felt a little pop and sudden tightness around the head of his cock. Aziraphale gave a little sigh, and Crowley slowly slid himself all the way in, until he was buried as far as he could go, his hips against Aziraphale’s arse. 

“Crowley, darling, you feel so good… I’m so full… fuck me, dear.”

Obediently, Crowley withdrew slowly until only the head remained inside, then pushed forward again, making Aziraphale moan. He did it again, then again, then again, picking up speed with each thrust. Before long, he’d established a steady pace and was back to showering Aziraphale’s neck and shoulders with kisses. 

“Crowley, oh, my darling.. your cock in me is _wonderful_... I’ve never felt anything better… I love you so much…”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. _Fuck_ , you feel so good around me. Do you like it?”

“I love it! Oh, darling, I love it. Give me more! Harder, faster!”

Crowley sped up, thrusting harder, their bodies making a wet, slapping sound that he knew they both loved. Aziraphale moaned, his chin falling to his chest, and Crowley took a moment to watch himself fuck Aziraphale. He was enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into Aziraphale’s arse, then reappearing, shining with lubricant. He could have happily watched that all day, but Aziraphale was talking. 

“ _Fuck!_ Oh Crowley… It’s so good… you fuck me so well…”

Crowley could feel himself getting close, that hot ball of tension at the base of his spine getting tighter, and he knew he wouldn't last long. It was too good, too fucking good.

“Angel,” he said, his voice choppy with exertion. “Are you close?”

“Yes, darling, your cock is hitting me just right and I’m going to come soon. Please, please don’t stop.”

Crowley had no intention of stopping. He wanted Aziraphale to come, more than anything. To help him along, he released his hips and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, one going around his chest, the other going to his cock to pump and stroke. 

“Yes! Oh, Crowley, yes… more darling… Please, please more…”

Crowley sped up his thrusts, attaching his mouth to Aziraphale's neck and sucking hard. He was close… so close… it wouldn’t be long now…

“Oh, God, Crowley! Ah! Ah! I’m going to come! Ah! Ah! Here I come! Oh!”

Aziraphale gave a mangled cry, his whole body stiffening, and Crowley felt hot come cover his hand. He didn’t let up in his pumping or thrusting, basking in every sound Aziraphale made, until he was so close he couldn't stand it. He released Aziraphale’s prick and fucked him as hard and fast as he could, his hands clutching the angel’s hips, his forehead on his beloved’s shoulder, his eyes closed and teeth bared. 

When orgasm hit, it hit like a lorry, and Crowley shouted his release, emptying his cock into Aziraphale’s arse. He was barely aware of anything for a time, so caught up in his own ecstasy, overwhelmed by the sensations that battered him. Eventually, he became aware of other things, like the water spraying on his back, Aziraphale’s soft hips in his hands, and Aziraphale’s hand on his head, in his hair. 

Crowley took one last shuddering breath, then raised his head. Aziraphale used his hand to pull Crowley over his shoulder, and their mouths met in a languid, lazy kiss. 

“I love you, angel.” 

“I love you, too, darling. Was that good for you?”

Crowley huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was better than good.”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Did you enjoy that?”

“Oh, Crowley, I _loved_ that.”

Crowley squeezed him, loving him so much, and kissed the tip of his nose. Then he withdrew his still hard cock slowly, making both of them moan. As soon as he was free, Aziraphale turned to face Crowley, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and kissed him sweetly. When the kiss broke, Aziraphale pulled Crowley fully into an embrace, holding him closely and quietly as they both came down from their highs. It was the most perfect moment of Crowley’s life. 

“I love you,” he said again, into Aziraphale’s shoulder, just because he couldn’t help it.

“Oh, Crowley. How I love you.”

Eventually they pulled apart, smiling at each other, giving lots of kisses. Aziraphale rinsed himself off, then stood to the side and watched with a smile as Crowley bathed himself. 

“Are you alright for time?” Crowley asked when he got done wetting his hair. “We didn’t take too long, did we?”

“How should I know?” Aziraphale laughed. “I’m in here with you, without a watch. But I think I’m okay. Worst case scenario, I’ll just have to skip reading the paper today.” 

Suddenly, Crowley was reminded of the fact that he needed to talk to Aziraphale about the press. But now was _not_ the time. For one thing, he had a feeling that having such a conversation would ruin the afterglow. But besides that, they didn't have time. It needed to be done, though, and soon. 

So Crowley said, “Can I take you to dinner tonight? I need to talk to you.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Is this a bad talk?”

“No, no. Not really. I just talked to Anathema about the press thing and want to talk to you about it.”

“Are you _sure_ this isn’t a bad talk?”

“I’m sure. But now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. So can I take you to dinner?”

“No, but I tell you what you _can_ do,” he said, slipping his arms around Crowley’s shoulders. 

“What’s that?”

“Bring a couple of changes of clothes like we said and we’ll celebrate our new drawers and keys by ordering in and watching a film.”

“And we’ll talk?”

“We’ll talk,” Aziraphale echoed. “And then you can spend the night with me.”

Crowley kissed his smile. “Angel, you’ve got a date.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned at the beginning but I owe a huge debt to NaroMoreau, Rose_Nebula, and Lurlur. Thank you, ladies. 💛

It had been a bit of a hectic day so far, certainly more hectic than usual. The fireproofing company had arrived precisely at ten to start work, throwing Aziraphale into a tizzy. He’d spent the morning going back and forth from the counter to the rare book room, observing them work, feeling more than a bit like an expectant father. The workers seemed competent, though, and didn't seem to mind him clucking around like a hen. They just patiently reassured him that they knew what they were doing and his books were in good hands. Aziraphale had no choice but to accept their words. 

Beyond that, there had been a lot of foot traffic in the shop, especially considering it was a rainy day. He was relieved when Tracy showed up for her shift at eleven thirty and he had a second pair of hands to help. They worked together to take care of the customers until there was a lull in business a little before one. He took advantage of the break to step back to the rare book room and pester the workers, then back to the counter. Tracy was there, gathering the books that had been abandoned or decided against at the last minute and putting them on the cart to be reshelved. 

“So, is Crowley coming to take you to lunch today?” she asked casually. 

“Not that I’m aware of, which is just as well. I’d be too anxious to sit down and enjoy a meal anyway.” 

She patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, boss. They’re professionals.”

“I know, I know.”

“So if you’re not seeing him for lunch, when are you seeing him again?”

“Tonight, after work. We’re ordering takeout and watching telly together.”

“I take it things are going well?”

“Yes, they’re going very well.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and Tracy prodded him. “Well, go on, tell me about it.”

“You’re really very nosy, you know,” he chided. 

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” she said, her eyes twinkling. 

“You never pumped me for information about Gabriel.”

“Because I thought Gabriel was a shithead from the moment I met him. Crowley is entirely different.”

“Yes, he is,” Aziraphale said, smiling to himself, getting lost in a quick daydream.

Tracy nudged his shoulder, smiling. “Go on. Tell me about it.”

“Well, I scarcely know where to begin. Can’t I just leave it at ‘things are going exceptionally well’?”

“Oh, no. I need more than that. Have you spent the night together yet?”

“Yes,” he answered, his cheeks reddening. “We have. In fact, I spent the night at his flat last night.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not.”

“I suppose you’re not willing to kiss and tell.”

“Decidedly not.”

“Well, what is his flat like? Is it fabulous? Gold plated everything?”

Aziraphale laughed. “No, it’s not. It’s a _very_ nice flat, minimally decorated. A bit _too_ minimal for my taste. And dark. But it suits him, I suppose.”

“So how long have you been spending the night together?”

“Since just before he went to New York.”

Tracy smacked his arm playfully. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Now, really, dear. Do you _honestly_ expect me to tell you all about my sex life?”

“Hmmph.”

The bells on the door rang and they looked up to see Newt coming in for his shift, shaking the raindrops off of him. 

“Hello, Newt.”

“Hi, boss. Hi, Tracy.”

“Hello, dear. It looks as if it’s gotten nasty outside.”

“It has. A very yucky day.”

“Go get clocked in and dried off, and mind the workmen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Newt went off to the back room and Aziraphale wondered if that would signal a change in subject with Tracy, but he should have known better. 

“Have you met any of his bandmates yet?

“Only Beezle, the drummer. I’m supposed to meet the others soon.”

“Oh, how exciting! What will you do?”

“Crowley says they have a dinner every month or so, and it’s coming up. I’ll go then.”

“Are you excited?”

“More nervous than anything. But I was _more_ nervous when I met his mother.”

“You met his _mother_?” Tracy repeated, sounding shocked. 

“I did.”

“Whose mother?” Newt asked, tying his apron and joining them. 

“Crowley introduced Aziraphale to his mother.”

“Oh, that’s a big deal.”

“It _felt_ like a big deal,” Aziraphale agreed. 

“So, how did it go?”

“It went very well. She’s a very nice lady. I liked her very much.”

“Did she like _you_?”

“Of course she liked him,” Tracy snorted. “He’s Aziraphale. Everyone likes him.”

“Not everyone,” Aziraphale grinned. “But yes, she seemed to like me alright.”

“Has he told you he loves you yet?”

The doorbells jingled again and they looked up to find a customer coming in. “I’ve got them,” Newt said, going to greet them. 

“Well, has he?” Tracy persisted. 

Aziraphale squared his shoulders. “He has, in fact. And I told him I love him.”

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t -- wait. You _did_?”

“I did, yes. Before he went to New York. He played a song he’d written for me and confessed to being in love with me. I was happy to tell him I loved him, too.”

“Gosh,” Tracy said. “Next thing you know, you’ll be moving in together.”

“Funny you should say that…”

She was agog. “You’re not.”

“Not exactly, not yet. But we're cleaning out a drawer for each other and having keys made to each other’s flats. Today, in fact.”

“Blimey.”

“Indeed. And there’s been talk of marriage.”

“Get out!”

“I’m serious. He claims to want to marry me.”

“And how do _you_ feel about that?”

“I’d marry him this weekend, and gladly.”

“Oh, Aziraphale, I’m so, so happy for you. You deserve this.”

“I have to be honest, I feel most undeserving, but I’m overjoyed. I couldn’t be happier.” 

“What about the press?”

“Well, we’re actually supposed to talk about that tonight. Apparently, his manager has come up with a plan.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out tonight. But whatever it is, I’ll do it and I’ll do it with a happy heart, because it will mean I’m with Crowley.”

The bells on the door rang again, and Tracy toddled off to help the new customer. They were all three busy for the next little while, until things started to slow again. Aziraphale ducked out to pick up some lunch - and to have a key made - but was back in the shop within twenty minutes. They were still slow when he got back, food in hand, so he told them he’d be in the back in case they needed him. They assured him they wouldn’t. He checked on the fireproofers one more time, then went to the back room to eat and work on the copy of Georgette Heyer he’d recently obtained. 

When he sat down he pulled out his mobile, expecting to read the news while he ate, but found a text from Crowley. 

Crowley: _Missing you. What time should I be at yours tonight? xx_

Aziraphale smiled and sent back a reply. 

Aziraphale: _The shop closes at six, so I’ll be free after about 6:15 or 6:30._  
Crowley: _How about I show up at your flat at six thirty with a pizza and a key to *my* flat?_  
Aziraphale: _I think that would be wonderful. I just had your key made myself. I love you xx_  
Crowley: _I love you too, xx_

They chatted a bit more while Aziraphale ate - nothing of any consequence, but it was much more enjoyable than reading the news. Once he was done eating, he told Crowley he loved him and ended the conversation for the time being, so he could focus on work. Then he checked on the fireproofers again and threw himself into repairing his new copy of The Conqueror. 

He was happily working, humming to himself along with the soft jazz that was playing, when Newt popped his head in the back room a little while later. 

“Hey, boss?”

“Yes, Newt?”

“I was shelving books and there was a note sticking out of the top of one. I pulled it out and looked at it, I think you should see it.”

He held out a folded piece of paper and Aziraphale took it. He opened the paper to read the words ‘STAY AWAY FROM HIM, WHORE’ in angry, slashing letters. 

Aziraphale blinked at it for a few minutes, nonplussed, then turned it over to look at the blank back side. 

“Was there anything else?”

“No, not that I saw.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Newt asked, sounding uncertain. 

“Oh, yes. I’m quite sure it was no big deal. Probably a prank of some sort. Very unusual to be sure, but nothing to worry about.”

“Well, okay…”

“Thank you for bringing it to me, Newt.”

“No problem.” Newt went back out to the front, leaving Aziraphale to look at the paper. He didn’t bother with it long, though, before he balled it up and threw it in the rubbish, going back to his project.

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale hadn’t been home very long when he heard a knock on the door. He went to open it with a smile, finding Crowley standing on the other side, sunglasses off, grinning at him, pizza box held high. 

“Hiya, angel. Pizza delivery for you,” he said with a cheeky grin. 

“Well, I say. I’ve never had a delivery man who was quite as handsome as you.”

Crowley’s smile turned wolfish. “Is this like one of those porn films where you don’t have the money to pay me so you have to pay me with sex? Because I’d be alright with that, if so,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, you wicked creature,” Aziraphale laughed. “Get in here.” He stepped aside to let Crowley in, and Crowley stole a kiss as he passed. Aziraphale just smiled at him, utterly in love.

“Want me to take this to the kitchen?”

“If you’d like, or we can eat it in here with the telly.”

“Can we cuddle after we eat?”

Aziraphale grinned at him. “If you’d like to. Netflix and chill, right?”

“Oh, I’d like that very much,” Crowley said, his eyes darkening. 

Aziraphale flushed with pleasure. “Well, you go ahead and set the pizza down. I’ll get us some plates and drinks. Is red wine okay?”

“Red sounds good.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the plates, napkins and a bottle of wine. When he came back, Crowley was sprawled over his usual side of the couch, aiming the remote at the telly. Aziraphale absolutely loved the way he was so at home in his space. It made him feel warm inside.

“What do you want to watch, angel?”

“Oh, nothing too heavy. Something light. Mindless.”

Crowley scrolled to ‘continue watching’. “How about Great British Bake Off?”

Aziraphale gave him a shrewd look. “You’d watch that?”

“Sure I would. I’d watch fucking paint dry if that’s what you wanted, sweetheart. But I’ve been known to watch a baking show or two.”

“Well, color me shocked,” Aziraphale said, opening the bottle of wine. “I never would have expected. Do you bake?”

“Not well. In fact, they offered me a guest spot on the celebrity edition and I turned it down because I didn’t want to make an arse of myself.”

Aziraphale just looked at him, dumbstruck. “You know, sometimes I completely forget that you’re world famous.”

Crowley snorted. “I wish I could forget.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that. You love what you do.”

“You’re right, I do. But I love you more.”

“I love you, too.”

Aziraphale just smiled at him, loving him so much it hurt, until his stomach growled and caught his attention. “Well, go ahead and start it, dear. I’ll serve us some pizza.”

Crowley obediently raised the remote and started the episode.

~*~O~*~

Forty minutes later, the pizza had been demolished and they were cuddled up together, watching the showstopper round. Aziraphale was as happy as he’d ever been, nuzzled into Crowley’s side, his head on his love’s shoulder and his hand over his beloved’s heart. Crowley, for his part, had his arm draped around Aziraphale’s shoulders, tracing absent patterns on Aziraphale’s bicep as they watched. 

“I miss Mary,” Aziraphale said. 

“You do?”

“I do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Prue a great deal, but I was terribly attached to Mary.”

“I can see why you’d prefer her. What about the hosts?”

“Oh, Noel and Sandi, all the way.”

Crowley chuckled. “Noel, huh? Another long haired goth. I’m starting to think that you have a type, Mr. Fell,” he teased. 

“Oh, stop. You’re the only long haired goth type I’d ever be interested in.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Good to know.”

They watched the rest of the showstopper round in silence, just enjoying being together. When the episode ended, Aziraphale sighed and sat up. 

“What’s wrong, angel?” Crowley asked, stopping the show. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted some wine.”

“Ah. I think I’d like some more, too.”

Aziraphale swallowed his sip. “Well, now that we’ve had dinner and relaxed a little while…”

“You want to move to the ‘chill’ portion of ‘netflix and chill’?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, you lech,” Aziraphale giggled. “At least, not yet.”

Crowley chuckled darkly. “Well, what _would_ you like to do?”

“We need to talk about the press thing and the plan Anathema has come up with.”

Crowley sighed. “Yeah, I guess we do. But I don’t want to.”

“I don’t particularly want to, either, but we must. So please do tell me what she said.”

Crowley took another sip of his wine. “She talked to my publicist, Mary Hodges, and they came up with three options.”

“Okay, what are they?”

“First, we can do nothing and ignore everything when the story breaks. Second, we wait until the story breaks and then I’ll give some interviews. Or, third, we can release the news ourselves, and get ahead of the story.”

Aziraphale considered them for a moment. “Okay, tell me more about them. Which does she recommend?”

“She wants us to break the news ourselves. She says we'll be better equipped to control the spin that way.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Is there any other reason she’s suggested that?”

“Yes. According to her, if I’m giving the press what they want, they’ll be more likely to leave us alone sooner.”

“Does she really think that will work?”

“I think so, yeah. The press attention will still be intense for a while, but she thinks it will die down quicker if we give them what they want.”

“Well, what do _you_ think?”

“I told her I was going to do whatever you decided.”

“Oh, Crowley, that’s not fair. We’re partners in this, aren’t we? Shouldn’t we decide _together?_ ”

“Yes, we’re partners, but I’m only interested in making _you_ happy and keeping _you_ safe.”

“It will make me happy for us to decide this _together,_ ” he said pointedly. “Please, darling. Tell me what you think.”

Crowley took another sip of his wine, looking thoughtful. “I think she’s right. If we do nothing, it will be bad for a long time. But if we do the interviews, we have a chance of it not being so terrible for so long. It’ll be less sustained. More like a battle and less like a siege.”

“What do you think about breaking the story ourselves? Is this one of those situations where ‘the best defense is a good offense’?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Well, how do you feel about that?”

“I’ll be happy to do it if that’s what you want.”

“What do _you_ want?”

“I want to be left in peace with my love. That’s all I want.”

“I want that, too, darling. But isn’t the best and quickest way to get that to give them what they want, in an effort to fend them off as best we can?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Well, then, I’d say the decision is made. We’ll release the news ourselves.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. That seems like the most logical course of action.” 

Crowley was looking at him strangely, and Aziraphale asked, “What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re willing to put yourself through this for me.”

“Oh, Crowley, my love, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I hope you know that.”

“I love you, angel.”

Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons - to be with the love of my life.”

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m grateful for it.”

“What’s it going to look like when this happens? You’ve told me a little but I don’t know much.”

“The press is going to camp out wherever we are, either at my flat or yours. Maybe both. They’re also going to set up camp in front of the shop.”

“Oh, that might put a damper on business.”

“It might. Or it might help. I don’t know. But I’m sorry, either way.”

“Don’t be sorry, dear. I’ll alert Newt and Tracy tomorrow. What else?”

“You should lock down your social media as soon as you can.”

“It’s already very restricted, but I’ll check the settings tomorrow. What else?”

“They’re going to follow us everywhere we go for a while, and take tons of photos. We won't be able to take long strolls around the park for a few weeks.” 

“Well, that won’t be the end of the world. It’s not forever, right?”

“No, it’s not forever. But you’re going to get close to my bodyguard, Shadwell. He’ll likely be with us on most dates.” 

“Okay. I can live with that.”

“The press is going to shout rude, vile things at us to get us to react. My best advice is just to ignore them, no matter what they say.”

“Alright, I think I can do that.”

“It’s hard, angel. And sometimes I’m not very good at it. But I have a feeling you’re going to have a cooler head than I do.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see about that. Is there anything else?”

“There are going to be loads of requests for an interview with you. You can do them or not, that’s entirely up to you.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone will want to hear from me.”

“They will, trust me. All I ask is if you do decide to do that, please speak with Mary first. She can prep you for it.”

“Alright, But I have no intention of speaking to anyone. I’d prefer to keep a low profile - and to keep the spotlight on you.”

“I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do, sweetheart.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “I love you, too, dear. Is that all?”

“I’m sure there’s more, but I can’t think of anything.”

“Well, I suppose we have a plan now, don’t we?”

“I suppose we do.”

“Do you need to let Anathema know?”

“Nah. I’ll ring her tomorrow. For now, I want to get back to what we were doing.”

“And what’s that?” Aziraphale asked, mischievous. 

“Netflix and eventually, chill.”

“Turn the show back on, and let’s just see what happens,” Aziraphale said with a smile, settling into his side again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted in the tags, our boys are going to deal with a stalker in this story. The stalker gets intense and very, very creepy. That’s your warning.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is Thanksgiving in the US, and I wanted to take a minute to express my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude to you guys. This is the halfway point of this fic and I can’t believe how fast it’s going, but more than that, I can’t believe how loving and supportive y’all have been with this story. I’m touched and deeply honored. Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate!! 🦃 🍂 🍽

_Thursday, 17 June_

Crowley was nervous but trying to deny it in the green room of the Parker Evans show a week later. He was always nervous before TV appearances - it was the time he was _most_ affected by his stage fright, actually - but tonight seemed to be a step beyond his usual nerves. Tonight, he’d be revealing the truth about his and Aziraphale’s relationship, and _fuck_ he was nervous.

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” Crowley said brightly, with a false smile. 

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re not. You’re nervous.”

“I -” Crowley said, preparing to deny it, but deflating. He couldn’t lie to Aziraphale. “Yeah. I’m fucking nervous.”

“Do you know Parker Evans?”

“I do. I’ve been on his show tons of times and we know each other socially.”

“Does that ease your mind at all?”

“Maybe a bit. He’s friendly and I know he won’t sabotage me.” Crowley sighed. “I shouldn’t be nervous. I know I shouldn’t. The whole thing is scripted.”

“Scripted how?”

“I have a good idea of what he’s going to ask. I always do. There’s going to be a segment with audience questions, and when I get a question from Michaela, that’s _the_ question. The one I’ll reveal the truth on.”

“Does it make it better or worse that I’m here?”

“I honestly don’t know. My mind is a jumble.”

“Would it make it better for you if I left?”

“No!” he said, reaching out to keep Aziraphale from leaving, even though he hadn’t moved. “I mean, no. Please don’t go.”

Aziraphale kissed his forehead gently. “I’ll be right here, darling. In the audience, watching. Your biggest fan.”

Crowley lay his forehead on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, plaintive.

“Well, no, I don’t _want_ to, but it’s better than the alternative, right?”

“I suppose,” Crowley said with a sigh, raising his head. 

Aziraphale tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s going to be fine, Crowley. I promise it will be.”

“I’m just terrified it’s going to be too much for you.”

“It won’t be. I love you, Anthony Crowley, and wild horses couldn’t drag me away from you. A few tossers with cameras certainly aren’t.”

“I just hope you’re right.”

Aziraphale kissed him lightly. “Trust me, Crowley. I wouldn't lie to you.”

“Maybe if it gets to be too much, we can take off for a week or so. We can go to the tropics, like you said you wanted. Or to Scotland. Or Italy. I’ll take you to Pompeii.”

The angel smiled at him. “That would be lovely, darling.”

“Then let’s plan on that. You and I will take off for a week or ten days later this summer.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Great. That was fucking _great_. It would be something to look forward to. Perfect. 

“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a gentle smile, tracing Crowley’s cheek. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

“This will all be okay.”

“I know. I trust you.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, kissing him again. 

“Did you tell Tracy and Newt?”

“I did. I prepared them the best I could.”

“What did they say? How did they react?”

“About how I’d expected. Newt’s eyes got big and he stammered. Tracy is excited about the prospect of having her photo in the paper.”

Crowley chuckled a little. “Yeah, I can see that. Did you talk to them about _talking_ to the press?”

“I told them both that they’re free to say whatever they like, but I would appreciate it very much if they wouldn’t say anything disparaging about you or anything that could invade our privacy. They were both happy to agree.” 

“Good.”

Aziraphale stroked his hand down Crowley’s back, and the motion was soothing. Crowley was surprised to note that his anxiety had subsided somewhat, all because of Aziraphale. Blimey. His love was magical. 

“What song are you going to play tonight?”

“Forward to Forever. One of the ones I wrote for you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “You are?”

“Yeah, and I have a surprise for you.”

“Well, tell me.”

“Nuh-uh. You’ll find out tonight with everyone else.”

“Now how is that fair?” Aziraphale huffed playfully. “I’m supposed to be special.”

Crowley kissed his smile. “You are special. But I want to surprise you.”

“Could you at least give me a teensy hint?”

“It has to do with the song.”

“Well, that’s hardly a hint at all! But I suppose I can live with that, although I’ll be on tenterhooks.”

Crowley grinned at him, loving him completely, and there was a knock at the door. It was opened to reveal a runner and an assistant director wearing a headset.

“Crowley, two minutes. Mr. Fell, James here is going to escort you to your seat.”

The nerves were back, full force, and his heart rate doubled unpleasantly. Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “You’ll be alright, Crowley. This will all be alright. I promise.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.”

Aziraphale kissed him sweetly. “I love you, and I’ll be here when you finish.”

“I love you, too.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand one more time, giving him a smile, then went to follow James to his seat. Crowley watched him go, feeling his nerves climb, then took a deep breath. It was fine. This was fine. He’d done dozens of these chat show performances. This was just one more.

“Crowley?” the AD said questioningly. 

Crowley squared his shoulders as best he could and said, “I’m ready. Lead the way.”

~*~O~*~

He strummed the last chord and sang the last note, his eyes closed, stage fright forgotten, and smiled when the audience burst into applause. He loved that sound, he _lived_ for it in a lot of ways, and this moment was even sweeter as he caught sight of Aziraphale in the front row, clapping and smiling, his face shining.

“Give it up for Crowley, everybody!” Parker said, and Crowley took a bow. He took off his guitar and handed it to the tech, then raised his hand to the audience, who were still clapping. 

The applause hadn’t died down when he went to sit in the chair next to Parker’s desk, getting himself comfortable - as comfortable as he was able. Quickly, he glanced out to make sure Aziraphale was still in his line of sight. He was, and Crowley relaxed a bit. 

“Welcome, welcome!” Parker said. 

“Thank you,” Crowley said as the applause faded. “Thank you for having me.”

“It’s good to see you! Been a while.”

“It has. I’ve been on the road for most of the last year.”

“How long have you been off the road?”

“Tour ended in March.”

“How was it? The tour?” 

“Long,” Crowley laughed. “I always enjoy tours, but I’m glad when I get to come home.”

“Any good stories from the road this time?”

“Well, let’s see… we had a bit of a prank war going on behind the scenes, but the tour manager made us stop because he feared for the health and safety of the band. In actuality, I think we were just getting on his nerves.” 

“Pranks like what?”

“Oh, just silly, teenage stuff. Beezle covered the toilet with cling film once and I retaliated by putting toothpaste in their shoes. Ligur covered my mic with vaseline, so I got a greasy handful when I went to grab it during sound check. Honestly, it’s a wonder we didn’t get fired.”

“It sounds like you have a good time on the road.”

“We do. We’re very much like a big family. I never had any siblings growing up, so it’s nice to have siblings now.”

“What about the rumors of wild backstage parties?”

Crowley smiled disarmingly. “Those are just rumors. We have a good time, but we’re not leaving trashed hotel suites in our wake. Not anymore, anyway. That’s a younger man’s game.”

“Fair enough. Now, tell me about the song you just played.”

“It’s called ‘Forward to Forever’. I just wrote it a couple of months ago.”

“It seems to be a bit of a departure from your usual music.”

He grinned. “I guess you could say that. I’ve been in a bit of a different mindset since shortly after the tour ended.” Crowley glanced at Aziraphale and barely refrained from winking. 

“You’re releasing this song as a single, though, correct?”

“That’s right. And one hundred percent of the profits raised from the sale and streaming of ‘Forward to Forever’ will go to Great Ormond Street Hospital.” 

Crowley heard a tiny gasp and looked out to see Aziraphale cover his mouth with his hand. He smiled at the sight. 

“A worthy choice,” Parker said, pulling his attention back to him. “Now, we put out a call for questions on our website, and got a tremendous response. People had loads of questions for you. Would you be willing to answer some of them?”

“I’d be happy to, Parker,” Crowley said, smiling brightly to hide his nerves. It was _time_.

“Perfect. Our first question is from Sergio in Liverpool. He asks, ‘What's the weirdest thing a fan ever gave you?’”

“I met a young woman one time that gave me her wisdom teeth. She said that she’d been listening to my music to help her stay calm during the extraction, and wanted me to have them.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not,” Crowley said with a grin. 

“What did you do with them?”

“Made earrings out of them.”

Parker and the audience laughed. “You’re joking!”

“I am, yes. In all honesty, I don’t know what happened to them. I had them in my desk for the longest time because I didn’t know what to do with them. I assume they’re still there.”

“What’s the weirdest thing a fan has ever _said_ to you?”

“Oh, I think that would have to be the time this chap told me that he was the second coming of Christ and it was my destiny to spread the good word with my music.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“It was, yeah. Wherever he is, I hope he got some help.”

“Me, too. Our next question is from Brittany in Edinburgh. ‘Is that your natural hair color?’”

Crowley laughed. “It is, yes. I’m a natural ginger. And I have the fair skin to prove it. I have to use loads of sunblock, and still end up with tons of freckles. They’re not very rock n roll.”

The audience tittered and Parker did, too. “Quite right. Our next question is from Claire in Manchester. She asks, ‘What do you listen to when you’re not working on your own stuff? Who is your biggest musical influence?’”

“My favorite band will always be Queen. I adore their style, their substance, and Freddie Mercury is the best frontman of all time. But I acknowledge that my style is a bit different from theirs.” 

“Just a bit, yeah. You seem to be more rock.”

“Yes, I am. I suppose that makes me a poor mimic,” he laughed. “But my other influences… I was a teenager in the 90’s so a lot of my sound is influenced by that: grunge and alternative rock. Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam… bands like that. I owe a huge debt to some of those bands for paving the way.”

“No doubt,” Parker said, shuffling his cards. “The next question is from Senelle in the South Downs. She asks, ‘What’s your favorite album you’ve made?’”

“Oooh, that’s a tough one. I love all of them, you know? I pour myself into each record, and asking me to pick a favorite is a bit like asking me to choose a favorite child. I don’t think I can.”

“Well, let me ask you this way: If you were going to introduce someone to your music, which album would you point them to?”

“I suppose I’d have to say either my first album, Sigil, or maybe Sauntering Vaguely Downward.”

“They’re both good albums,” Parker agreed. “But I really like Flash Bastard, too.”

Crowley grinned. “Well, as I said, I’m proud of all of them.”

“Very good. Our next question comes from Micheala in London.”

He took a deep breath and adjusted himself subtly in his seat. It was time. He looked out at Aziraphale to see him looking anxious, too, and shot him a quick, reassuring smile. 

“‘If you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would you choose and why?’”

Crowley gave him a smile. “Well, historically, my answer to that has always been Freddie Mercury. But I feel compelled to change that.”

“Oh?” Parker said, sounding curious even though he already knew what was coming. 

“Yeah. If I could have dinner with anyone, I’d want to have dinner with my boyfriend, Aziraphale.”

There was a small, collective gasp from the audience and Crowley glanced out to see Aziraphale. He was smiling, looking shy. Crowley gave him a smile, loving him so much. 

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Are you willing to tell us about him?”

“I’m more than happy to talk about him. He’s one of my favorite topics of conversation.”

“How did you meet?”

“I did a contest through Omaze a few months ago where people would buy a chance to have dinner with me. He bought one and happened to win. As soon as he walked through the door, I was smitten.”

“So he’s a fan?”

“Not when he met me, no. In fact, when he met me, he didn’t have a clue who I was.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m serious. He had entered because he wanted to support the hospital, but he had no clue who I was. He’s a fan _now_ , I think. At least, I hope,” he joked.

“How long ago did you meet him?”

“A little over two months. We went on one date and I googled him immediately after to find him and ask to take him on a second date. I forced myself to wait two days so as not to seem too eager, and it was the longest two days of my life.”

“But he agreed to see you again.”

“Lucky for me, he did,” Crowley said, while grinning, looking out at Aziraphale with soft eyes.

“Well, let me ask you… are you concerned with people’s reactions to you dating a man?”

“No, not really. The people I’m closest to in my life are fully supportive. They’re all thrilled.”

“What about your fans? You’ve never publicly dated a man before…”

“No, not publicly. I think my fans are open minded enough and good enough people to accept me for who I am - and to accept the man I love, too. If they're not open minded enough to do that, well, I don’t want the love and support of bigots.”

“Well said. What else are you willing to tell us about this Aziraphale?”

“God, I don’t even know where to begin. He’s wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I call him ‘angel’ because he’s the embodiment of every good thing. I’m just… I’m in love, for the first time in a long, long time. Arse over teakettle. Like the song said, I’m looking forward to forever.”

“That’s absolutely wonderful and we couldn’t be happier for you.” To the camera, he said, “We’ve got to take a quick break, give it up for Crowley!”

The audience clapped wildly, and Crowley smiled out at them. He spotted Aziraphale clapping, and as he watched, the AD came to get him and escort him backstage. Crowley was relieved - he’d get to see his sweetheart soon. 

While the audience clapped, Parker turned to Crowley. “Well done, mate. You did a fine job.”

“Thank you. And thank you for agreeing to do this.”

Parker scoffed. “Are you kidding? That interview is going to be played all over the place. It was our pleasure.”

The AD came to retrieve Crowley and he gave Parker a handshake before he allowed himself to be led back to the green room. When he opened the door, he was met with an armful of Aziraphale. Crowley just smiled and wrapped his arms around his sweetheart. 

“Hiya, angel,” he said into his shoulder. 

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “Hi, yourself.”

“Did I do alright?”

Aziraphale pulled back to look at him, cupping his face. “You did _brilliantly_. Oh, Crowley, I was so proud of you. I could simply _burst_ with it. And that song…”

“You’d heard it before.”

“Yes, but not like this. And you’re donating the money to Great Ormond Street Hospital!”

“In your honor. Every penny will be donated in your honor.”

“Oh, Crowley. I just love you so much.”

“I love you, too, angel.”

Aziraphale kissed him, hard and exuberantly, and Crowley kissed back just as eagerly. Their tongues were battling and he was getting lost in the kiss when he heard a cleared throat behind them. 

“Your limo is waiting, sir.”

He grabbed Aziraphale’s hand with a smile. “Come on, angel. Let’s go home and wait for the dam to burst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t show them, but please know that this is not the only interview that Crowley did. He had a little flurry of interviews after this.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15k+ hits?
> 
> HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS I CANNOT EVEN. Thank you!!!

_Tuesday, 22 June_

The next few days after the interview had both sped by and dragged. They’d woken up Friday morning to find that there were reporters camped out in front of the shop, just as Crowley had predicted. It had been discomfiting, but Aziraphale had been able to see that Crowley was _more_ discomfited and he’d done his best to appear matter of fact about the whole thing. He’d insisted on going about their morning as if nothing was amiss, and that had seemed to impress - and more importantly soothe - Crowley. Aziraphale had been relieved. 

So they’d showered together and made breakfast, then sat on the couch together drinking coffee and chatting until the time came for Aziraphale to go to work. He was more nervous than he wanted to let on, but he put on a brave face as he kissed Crowley goodbye and let him leave. As agreed, he waited five minutes after Crowley had gone, then opened the door and exited his flat, too, facing the swarm. They shouted all manner of things at him and the flashbulbs were blinding, but Aziraphale simply smiled as serenely as he could and said ‘no comment’ to their questions. The door to the shop was only ten feet from the door to his flat, but it took a full three minutes to make the short trip. 

He’d texted Crowley once he was inside to let him know he was safe, then did his best to go about his day. 

Tracy and Newt had gotten in a bit easier, though they’d still had to fight the crowd. Newt had been rattled by the experience, but Tracy had been energized - just as Aziraphale had expected she would be. He figured she wouldn’t be able to help herself from giving a quote at some point, but as long as she didn’t say anything horrible about Crowley, he didn’t see the harm. 

Business was glacially slow that first day, with most customers being afraid to broach the wall of photographers. Aziraphale debated stepping out in front to ask them to leave room for customers to come in, but wanted to run that by Crowley first. He was afraid to make a misstep. 

To fill the time, he set himself and his employees to work on rearranging several sections of the shop. It was a project he’d been hoping to take on for a long time and had never really had the opportunity. But with the press looming and making it difficult for customers to come in, it seemed like the perfect time. Newt and Tracy helped without complaint. 

At the end of the shift that first day, Crowley had sent a car to pick him up and bring him to Mayfair. It was exactly what he’d needed, and he spent the night at Crowley’s flat, wrapped in his love’s arms and cocooned from the world outside. 

The next three days were much the same, except for Sunday. The press camped out in front of the shop, and although they _had_ retreated a bit to let customers in, the customers still weren’t coming. The majority of the very light foot traffic they got in the shop were reporters looking to chat Aziraphale up, or the occasional fan of Crowley’s. Aziraphale learned very quickly not to give them anything, but he didn’t care if they came in. They were polite, for the most part, and most had the good grace to buy something. That was all Aziraphale could ask for, and he was polite to everyone in turn. 

On the fourth day, they were running out of things to do. The only sections that hadn’t been reorganized were sections Aziraphale didn’t particularly _want_ to reorganize, and he was starting to worry about money. He’d be alright for a few weeks, at this rate, but it would certainly make a dent. The idea of closing the shop for a week or so to go for a holiday was becoming more appealing. It would be fine, he decided. In the worst case scenario, he could just sell some of his rare books. He _really_ didn’t want to do that, but it was an option.

He was at the counter with Newt, shooting the breeze because there was nothing better to do, when the doorbell jingled and he looked up to see Tracy coming in, waving apologetically at the press, a big smile on her face. It made him smile, too. 

“Hello, Tracy.”

“Hello, dear. Busy out front today, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to get worse in about an hour and a half. Crowley’s coming to take me to lunch.”

“Oh, he is?”

“Indeed. He says we shouldn’t stop living our lives, and I agree with him.”

“Quite right,” Tracy said approvingly. “Let me clock in, I’ll be right back.”

Aziraphale stayed up front with Newt until Tracy came back, tying her apron, and joined them. “No customers today?”

“We’ve had a couple, but just like the last few days, they’ve all been fans of Crowley’s or reporters.”

“Well, it’s bound to get better soon, don’t you think?”

“I hope so,” Aziraphale said uncertainly. 

“So! What are we doing today, boss?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I really don’t have anything for us to reorganize. We’ve already done it all.”

“So what do we do?” Newt asked. “Just man the fort?”

“That’s all I know _to_ do.”

“I’ve had an idea,” Tracy said.

“Oh?”

“Yes. What would you think about selling online? Having a digital storefront? At least for the rare books…”

“I wouldn’t have the first idea about how to implement that.”

“Nor I, but I’m good with a computer and could learn,” Tracy said. “It couldn’t hurt to research it.”

“No, I suppose you’re right. It would be good to expand the services of the shop. Can I think about it?”

“Of course. It’s your shop.”

“Yes, but I like to take your opinion into consideration, too. Both of you.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s a great idea. I’d be willing to help any way I could,” Newt said. 

Aziraphale patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, dear. By the by, I’ve been meaning to ask both of you… what would you two think of a holiday in a few weeks?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Crowley has said he’d like to take me on holiday, to get us away from the hoopla. I’d love to go, but I don’t want to leave either of you in the lurch.”

“It wouldn’t leave me in the lurch,” Newt said. “I could visit my mother. She’s always after me to come visit.”

“It wouldn’t leave me in a lurch, either. I’ve got a nice little nest egg saved up. I’ll be fine. You should go.”

“Oh, good,” Aziraphale said, relieved. “I’m so pleased to hear that.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Where would you _like_ to go?”

“I’m not sure about that either. Somewhere relaxing, and somewhere private. Away from the British press.”

“Well, Crowley is an international superstar, so you’re probably not going to get completely away from the press. But it might be better somewhere else.” 

“Yes, that’s the hope,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Newt, would you mind holding down the fort, as you said? I think I’m going to hide in the back and work on my new copy of Pride and Prejudice. It’s in terrible shape,” he said happily.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you. I’ll just be in the back if you need me.”

“What would you have me do, Aziraphale?”

“Why don’t you come back with me and start to research about setting up an online storefront?”

“I’ll be happy to.”

“Thank you. Newt, if Crowley comes, just send him to the back.”

“Will do, boss.”

“Lovely, thank you. Shall we, Tracy?”

He set off towards the back room with Tracy in tow, and went straight to his work bench and his battered copy of Pride and Prejudice. Tracy went to the desk and had a seat, putting on her readers and firing up the computer, and the quiet was nice. Comfortable.

His mobile went off in his pocket after about twenty minutes and he pulled it out to see a message from Crowley. 

Crowley: _How are things?_  
Aziraphale: _Same as they have been._  
Crowley: _Are they at least standing back from the door?_  
Aziraphale: _Yes, but that hasn’t led to an increase in business._  
Crowley: _Damn. I’m sorry. :(_  
Aziraphale: _It’s not your fault, my love._  
Crowley: _It kinda is._  
Aziraphale: _Well, I wouldn’t change anything if it changed me and you. xx_  
Crowley: _I love you, too. xx_

Aziraphale grinned, loving that Crowley understood him perfectly. 

Crowley: _Did you ask about the holiday?_  
Aziraphale: _Yes, and they both said it would be fine._  
Crowley: _Good. We can decide on where to go at lunch._  
Aziraphale: _That sounds wonderful. So you’re still coming to take me to lunch?_  
Crowley: _I thought I might, yeah. If you’re willing._  
Aziraphale: _I’m always willing, darling. When are you coming?_  
Crowley: _Is an hour too soon?_  
Aziraphale: _Perfect. I’ll be in back working on a book when you get here._  
Crowley: _I’ll see you in an hour. Love you. xx_  
Aziraphale: _I love you, too. xx_

He pocketed his mobile and turned to Tracy. “Are you having any luck, dear?”

“I am, a bit. I’ve found some businesses that provide it as a service, so we wouldn’t have to do it on our own. It would relieve the brunt of the work.”

“That would be nice. Have you contacted them?”

“I’ve sent emails to two companies, and I’m researching a third.”

“Very good.”

“Blimey,” she said, narrowing her eyes and leaning over to peer at the screen.

“What is it?”

“We’ve gotten hundreds of emails.”

Aziraphale sighed. He should have expected this. “We do?” he said, wary. 

“Yes, we do.”

“All of them in the last four days, I suppose?”

“Looks that way. And not all of them are business related.”

“No, I imagine not.” With a sigh, figuring he’d best appear interested, he slid his rolling chair over beside Tracy. “Well, I suppose you should show me.”

“It would take hours to go through all of these…”

“Let’s just hit the high spots then, shall we?”

“Alright.” She clicked on one of the first emails, and the message popped up. He read aloud. 

“‘Dear Mr. Fell, My name is Curtis Snook and I’m a reporter with -’ Trash it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. Delete it.”

“Alright.” She deleted the message and opened the next one. 

“‘Dear Mr. Fell’... oh, it’s another reporter. Delete that one, too.”

She pulled up the next email. 

“‘Dear Mr. Fell, I learned last night on the Parker Evans show that you are in a relationship with Crowley. I feel it only fair to warn you that’ - delete it.”

“You don’t want to read the rest?”

“No, I don’t. Why would I take unsolicited advice from someone I don’t even know?”

“Fair point.”

She pulled up the next email which was another request for an interview. The one after that was a fan of Crowley’s asking for a job so she could meet him. The next two were requests for interviews. Aziraphale was getting quite bored with the topic and was ready to go back to his book when she opened the next email. 

“‘Go back where you came from. Crowley deserves better. He was better off with Sofia. I hope you burn in hell.’ Well, I never,” Aziraphale said. “Delete that, and let’s see the next one.”

Tracy did as requested and pulled up the next email. 

“Well. I won’t be polluting my brain by reading _that_ homophobic garbage. The language on some of these people,” he huffed. 

“Shall I open another one?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, please do.”

She opened two more emails, which were requests for interviews, then another from a fan. 

“‘Dear Mr. Fell, I just want to say how excited I am to hear that you are dating Crowley. As a queer man myself, it means the world to me that one of my icons is openly involved in a happy relationship. It gives me hope. Please pass on my love and admiration to Crowley. Sincerely, Bryson.’ Oh, how nice.”

“That was lovely,” Tracy agreed. “Should I save that one?”

“Yes, please do, so I can show Crowley.”

After that, they got a bit more effective, weeding out all of the emails that came from newspapers or magazines or other media outlets. That left the emails from private citizens, which were a mixed bag. Some people said encouraging things, offering their support, but it seemed that at least half of the people wanted to say rude, hateful, homophobic things. Aziraphale deleted them all. 

“Don’t you think you should save some of these to show Crowley?”

“Absolutely not. There’s no need to trouble him with this nonsense. I’m sure he’s getting the same kinds of junk.”

Tracy didn’t seem so sure, but didn’t argue. 

They got up to an email sent by ‘John Doe.’ Aziraphale had a bad feeling about a missive that the sender wouldn’t put his name to, but told Tracy to open it anyway. The words screamed at him from the screen. 

_I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE. STAY AWAY FROM HIM OR ELSE._

Tracy withdrew a little bit, her eyes glued to the screen. “Aziraphale…”

“I see it. Just delete it.”

“But Aziraphale, that’s a _threat_.”

“It’s not, not really. Just a nutter.”

“But they’re _threatening you_.”

“I doubt very seriously it’s anything. Just someone with a lot of time on their hands,” he said, not wanting to let on that he was disquieted. “Just delete it and let’s go about our day.”

“I really think you should call and report this to the police.”

“Report what? They haven’t _done_ anything.”

“At the very least, you should tell Crowley.”

“No. Absolutely not. He’s worried enough about this without adding to that anxiety.” 

“But it sounds as if he _should_ be worried.”

“Tracy, my dear, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s fine. No big deal.”

“It seems like a big deal to me,” she griped. 

“Just delete it, please.”

“Alright, alright. But if you get another one, I think you should tell someone.”

“If I get another threatening email from this person, I’ll tell Crowley.”

“Do you promise?”

“I swear.”

“Alright,” she said, and they went back to the emails. 

They had been through another fifteen emails from Crowely’s fans and were on a streak of positive messages when Newt popped his head in the back. “Aziraphale? You just got a delivery.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“It’s roses.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Roses? Why would Crowley send roses when he’s going to pick me up in a few minutes?”

Newt shrugged. “Search me.”

“Oh, well. Thank you, dear. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“Okay.”

He popped back out and they went back to reviewing emails, but Aziraphale’s curiosity about the flowers was gnawing at him. Why would Crowley send him flowers when he usually _brought_ them? It didn’t make sense, and something didn’t seem right. So he got to his feet. “Why don't we take a break, dear, and check on Newt?”

“Okay,” Tracy said amiably. 

They emerged from the back room to find Newt at the counter reading the newspaper, and an enormous bouquet of three dozen red roses sitting on the counter. He smiled when he saw them. 

“Oh, Crowley, they’re lovely,” he said, plucking the card out of the middle of the bouquet to read it. He opened it and his face fell.

“What does he say?” 

“They’re not from Crowley. They’re from Gabriel.”

“Gabriel!” they both exclaimed in unison, and Aziraphale handed the card to Tracy so she could read it aloud. 

“‘I miss you, sunshine. We could be so good together again. Love, Gabriel’. Oh, what a _prick_ ,” she spat. “The absolute _nerve_ of him to think you would _ever_ take him back.”

“Well, that’s Gabriel for you. Stupid to a fault.”

“Do you want me to take them out to the dumpster?” Newt offered.

“I don’t --”

The bells over the door rang and they all looked up to see Crowley breezing in on a wave of flashbulbs and shouted questions. He had a blue and white bouquet in his hands and was smiling brightly. For the first time since he’d known Crowley, he felt something other than unbridled joy at his appearance. He was nervous, and wished Crowley had been delayed by even one minute so he could have disposed of the flowers. 

“Hiya, angel,” he said cheerfully, pulling off his glasses. “Oh, Tracy, you lucky lady, someone sent you flowers.”

“Not for me,” Tracy said, her eyes wide. 

“Ah, so they’re for Newt?”

“Why don’t we step into the back, darling,” Aziraphale said. “Newt, you can do what you’d offered to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Newt said. 

Aziraphale reached and took Crowley’s hand. “Come with me, dear.”

“Okay,” Crowley said agreeably. 

Once they were in the back room, Crowley didn’t waste a minute before he pulled Aziraphale into his arms and kissed him soundly. “God, angel, I’ve needed that. Been thinking about it all morning.”

“You just kissed me like that a few hours ago.”

“A few hours too long.”

Aziraphale giggled. “I love you, too, dear.”

Crowley smiled and kissed him quickly. “So, these are for you,” he said, presenting the bouquet. “Sorry they’re not as flashy as Newt’s. I’ll do better.”

“They’re perfect, darling. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So who sent Newt flowers? I’m dying of curiosity.”

“They - they aren’t for Newt. They were for me.”

Crowley looked confused. “Someone sent you flowers?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Gabriel. He sent them with a note that said he missed me.”

Crowley’s expression was black. “I’ll kill him.”

“No, darling.”

“No, I mean it. I’ll find him and wring his neck.”

“Crowley, darling, there’s no need. Newt is throwing the flowers into the dumpster as we speak.”

“Why would he fucking _do_ that?”

“Because I asked him to.”

“Not Newt, fucking Gabirel!”

“Oh. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m not with him anymore, I’m with you. Gabriel can go hang for all I give a fig.”

“I could _throttle_ him with my bare fucking hands.”

“What good would that do?”

“It would make me feel better.”

Aziraphale lay down his bouquet and stepped over to Crowley, putting his hands on his hips. “Crowley, darling, you’re being unreasonable.”

“He’s trying to take you away from me!”

“And he’s destined to fail. I'm in love with _you_ , Crowley. Not him.”

“But you _used_ to love him. He’s trying to rekindle that.”

“I did. But it was a completely different thing. And I never loved him even a _fraction_ as much as I love you.”

Crowley’s jaw was still mulish and his golden eyes were smoldering. “I could kill him. I really could.”

“I’m sure you could, dear, but you needn’t do that. Insofar as I’m a prize, you’ve won.” 

“Hmmph.”

Aziraphale stepped a little closer and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist. “What would make you feel better, darling?” 

“Kicking his arse.”

“Besides that,” Aziraphale said with a little smile. “Would you like me to message him now, while you’re here, and tell him to shove off? I will, if that’s what you want.”

“I’d rather you not talk to him at all.”

Aziraphale kissed his jaw. “Then I won’t. I love you, Crowley. And I would never be unfaithful.”

Crowley sighed and deflated a bit, relaxing and putting his arms around Aziraphale, seeming almost defeated. “I love you, too. And I know that. I do. I trust you, honestly. I just don’t trust _him._ ”

“Well, he’s not a very trustworthy person, so I understand. But I’m all yours, darling. I belong to no one but you.”

“Do you promise?”

Aziraphale pressed a sweet, soft kiss to his lips. “I swear, Crowley. I belong to you and you alone. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So much.”

“Good. Are you feeling better?”

“I guess.”

Aziraphale smiled mischievously. “I bet I know what would cheer you up.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“We could slip off upstairs and skip lunch. You could fuck me. Stake your claim again.”

Crowley groaned. “I’d love to, but you need to eat. Besides, the fucking press would figure it out and have a field day. I can see the headlines now. ‘Afternoon Delight for Crowley and his Love’. No, ta. But tonight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you through the mattress.”

“I look forward to it,” Aziraphale said, his eyes twinkling. 

Crowley darted forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you, you minx.”

“I love you, too.”

“Are you ready to brave the crowd and go to lunch to decide where we’re going on our first holiday? I’d like to talk to you about Scotland.”

“I’m very ready, darling. Lead the way.”


	20. Chapter 20

_Saturday, 3 July_

“Are you sure this is going to be enough food to feed all these people?” Aziraphale asked, looking doubtfully at the array of meat, cheese, fruits and vegetables that covered Crowley’s black marble counters while he cut carrots into sticks. 

Crowley grinned from his place a couple of feet away, slicing salami. “This isn’t the meal, angel. This is just an appetizer. Something for us to munch on while we socialize.” 

“Oh. Well, what _is_ for dinner?”

“We’ll order pizzas.”

“Oh.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just expected something a little more formal.”

“Nah, we’re not that fancy. Most musicians aren’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we all enjoy the finer things, but when we're just hanging out, we’re really relaxed. The charcuterie boards are as highbrow as we get at these things. Well, and lots of expensive wine. Pass me that board?”

Aziraphale did as requested, still thoughtful. “Will you tell me about them?”

“Who, the band?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’ll get to know them tonight.”

“I know, but I’m a bit nervous.”

Crowley leaned over and stole a kiss. “Don’t be. They’re all going to love you. By the end of the night, you’re going to have a whole stable of best friends.”

“I do hope you’re right. But- tell me about them?”

“Sure, angel. Well, you’ve already met Bee, so you know them a little bit. I’ve been friends with them since uni. Then there’s Hastur, who I’ve known the second longest. He’s a good bloke, but a bit gruff sometimes. Kinda like Bee. But you won’t have to worry about that. He’s not an arsehole or anything, and he certainly won’t be to you.”

“I hope not.”

“Then there’s Dagon and her wife, Jessica. They’ve been together since time out of mind, but have only been married for the last four years. Jessica is a teacher, and _really_ sweet. You’re going to love her.”

“What does she teach?”

“Preschool. And she has the perfect temperament for it, too. I have no idea what she sees in Dagon, honestly. And then there’s Ligur and his wife, Danielle. They’ve been married for fifteen years, and still blissfully happy. They have two children, Maisie and Madeline.” 

“He’s the one that talked you into reading Harry Potter.”

“That’s right. He was reading it because Maisie was interested.”

“So he’s a good dad.”

“I mean, I think so, but I’m not his kid. I’m sure his daughters have another opinion, at least sometimes.”

“What does Danielle do?”

“She owns a shop that sells women’s clothing and accessories. So you’ll have a little something in common, both being shop owners.”

“And you said she’s nice as well? And Ligur?”

“They’ll be nice to you. Promise.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…”

Crowley finished laying out the meat on the two boards, making an attractive pattern, then started cubing the cheese. “You worry too much. This will be fine. I’d never put you in any situation where I thought you’d be miserable.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t. I’m being silly.”

“It’s not silly, it’s a perfectly understandable anxiety. And I really appreciate you being willing to do this.”

“It’s my pleasure, darling. Really. I just hope I make a favorable impression.”

“You will. I’m sure of it.”

“I have to admit, as nervous as I am, I’m quite excited.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth. “You are?”

“Yes. I feel like I’ll be able to see another side of you tonight, and I’m very much looking forward to that.”

“Well, fuck, now I’m worried that you might not like what you see,” Crowley joked. 

Aziraphale swatted at him playfully. “Oh, stop.”

Crowley chuckled and deposited the cubed cheese on the two boards. When he was done, he came to wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. “Tonight is going to be fun, I promise. But if you get uncomfortable at any point, I need you to tell me so I can change what I need to in order to put you at ease. Alright?”

“You don’t have to do anything special for me, Crowley.”

“I know, but I can’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable. So I mean it, angel. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Crowley kissed him lightly. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

Crowley smiled and kissed him again. “Good. Now, I have a question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you mind if I have a couple of drinks?”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale laughed. “Why would I mind?”

“We’ve just never been drunk around each other. We’ve always stopped after a couple of glasses before. I rarely ever drink _more_ than that, but I tend to let loose at these dinners, with my bandmates. Especially when they’re in my home.”

“You can have all you want to drink. I won’t judge you, my love. I just hope you don’t make yourself sick.”

“Nah. I know when to stop.”

“Come to think of it, I may join you, since I’m spending the night and don’t have to work in the morning. It’s the perfect excuse to tie one on, as they say. And besides, I’ve always heard that you and your partner should see each other in every conceivable situation before you move in together. Or get married.”

Crowley grinned. “I’ve heard the same. So you and I having a bit to drink tonight will just be helping to push us towards a life together?”

Aziraphale grinned in return. “Yes, I think so. A step in that direction.”

“Well, I’m all in favor of that. Whatever gets you moved in quicker.”

Aziraphale giggled, then the doorbell rang. Both men looked towards the sound. 

“That’ll be Dagon and Jessica, they’re always the first to arrive. Are you ready?”

He nodded. “I’m ready.”

Crowley kissed him quickly. “Let’s do this.”

~*~O~*~

The band and their wives showed up over the next thirty minutes, Hastur and Beezle being the last to arrive. Aziraphale was introduced to each of them in turn, and was quiet at first, nervous, sipping his wine, but gradually began to relax. The wine helped, and so did Crowley keeping an affectionate arm around his waist anytime it was feasible. If anyone was concerned that he was quiet, nobody said anything. 

Crowley had been right, they were all very nice, and it didn’t take long before Aziraphale was smiling and laughing along with them - genuinely. He had worried that he’d feel like an outsider looking in, like a nerd hoping to get a seat at the cool kids’ table at lunch, but it wasn’t that way at all and he was thrilled. Although he’d only known these people for an hour, Beezle excepted, he felt like one of the gang. It was a nice feeling and he treasured it.

After the charcuterie boards were demolished and they were all on their second (or third) drink, they decided to order pizzas. Aziraphale could tell that the conversation and debate that followed had been had dozens of times, and everyone knew their part. 

“So what am I ordering?” Crowley asked, pulling out his mobile to pull up the app. 

“We’ll eat whatever,” Ligur said, his arm around Danielle. 

“Black olives for me,” Beezle said. 

“That’s so damn gross. They look like little flies,” Hastur said.

“You’re calling _me_ gross? You’re the one that likes to put _sweetcorn_ on your fucking pizza!”

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never tried it. Speaking of, Crowley --”

“Fuck no. I’m not ordering sweetcorn on the damn pizza,” Crowley said without looking up.

“Well, you suck.”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale and winked, making him flush.

“I’m allergic to pineapple,” Jessica supplied. 

“Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza anyway,” Crowley said, “so you’re fine there.”

“You just don’t know what’s good,” Hastur replied. “Hawaiian pizza is worthy of deities.”

“God you’re a fucking _freak_ ,” Beezle said fondly. 

“How about if I get one supreme, one pepperoni and sausage, one cheese, and one white pizza with spinach and bacon for the ladies.”

There was a hum of assent.

“Great. I’ll order now.”

“While you do that, I’m going to open another bottle of wine,” Dagon said. “Who wants some?”

All of the people drinking wine indicated they wanted more, including Aziraphale. He was still nervous, but the edge of his anxiety was being taken off by the alcohol. He figured a little more and he’d be feeling fine.

“So, Aziraphale,” Hastur said, when they’d all refreshed their drinks or had gotten another beer. “You must have tons of questions for us.”

“Yeah,” Bee said, looking excited. “ _Please_ give us the opportunity to tell you embarrassing stories about Crowley.”

There was a little laughter and Crowley smiled, putting his mobile in his pocket and sliding his arm back around Aziraphale’s waist. “Pizza will be here soon. And I want all of you to remember that if you embarrass me _too_ badly, my revenge will be slow and terrible.”

Beezle snorted. “You’ll shit and fall back in it,” they said, and everyone laughed. 

“He _is_ a bit of a diva, though, Aziraphale. Best you know that up front,” Dagon said. 

“Oh, I am not.”

“You are, too. You _have_ to have honey and lemon herbal tea before and after every show, or you raise hell.”

“It’s medicinal!”

This was greeted by snorts and pursed lips from the rest of the band, and Aziraphale had to stifle a laugh. 

“What about the way you won’t do a concert unless you can walk the stage before a show?”

“That’s to get myself into the right headspace,” Crowley said. “Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one with quirks. Ligur has a shrine up to Danielle and the kids in the tour bus and won’t go on stage without their picture taped to the back of his bass. Bee has to have coffee every morning at eight thirty, no matter what we did the night before or how late we were up. Dagon goes out into every city after sound check and buys a cheap souvenir, and Hastur has his nasty, nasty ‘lucky’ shoes.”

“They _are_ lucky!” Hastur insisted.

“And none of that stuff is really diva behavior.”

“Drinking medicinal, herbal tea is prescribed by my doctor for my voice. If I lose my voice, we’re _all_ fucked. And getting myself into the right frame of mind isn’t diva behavior. It’s not like I insist on everything in the dressing room being snow white or having no green M&Ms.”

“Well, no, that’s fair. You don’t do those things.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Ligur protested, his dark eyes twinkling. “We’re supposed to be embarrassing _Crowley_. The really funny stuff.”

“Oh, like what,” Crowley laughed. 

“Like the time you got drunk somewhere in the breadbasket of the US and the tour bus took off without you. Remember? The tour manager had to drive back and get you, hung over as hell.” 

“Oh, I remember that very well. It was fucking _miserable_. He made me listen to the country music station for the whole three hour ride while my head was pounding.”

“You deserved that,” Jessica said, smiling. 

“I did.”

“Then there was the wardrobe malfunction,” Dagon said, grinning broadly. 

“That wasn’t a malfunction, that was me being an idiot.”

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked.

“He forgot to button his fly and went out on stage with it open. We were halfway through the set before any one of us caught on.” 

“Yeah, I’ll never forget that night,” Crowley said, his cheeks reddening. Aziraphale was worried that maybe they’d gone too far, but he was smiling and looked amused, so Aziraphale just sipped his wine. 

“The _funniest_ Crowley story, though, is when he met _you_ , Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, you. But we’ve never verified what he said - is it true you didn’t know who he was when you met him?”

“Oh. Yes, that’s true,” he answered, flushing a bit. 

Everyone burst into laughter. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on Crowley’s face when he realized!” Bee said, laughing fit to burst. “I’ll bet it was _priceless_.”

“It probably was,” Crowley agreed, laughing along with them. “But to be honest, after I got over the shock, I was fucking _delighted_.”

“Well, apparently so, since he’s here with you now.”

“And we’re _glad_ you’re here,” Danielle said, smiling. 

“It’s great to be here,” Aziraphale said, completely honestly, looking at Crowley, smiling. Crowley just gave him a fond look and squeezed his waist. 

“How about the time that --” Dagon started, but was interrupted by the doorbell. 

“Saved by the bell.”

“Luck of the devil,” Jessica laughed. 

Crowley downed the last of his beer, then tossed it into the recycling. “I’ll go get the pizza. You lot refresh your drinks and meet me in the dining room, yeah?”

There was a chorus of agreement and they all started moving around. 

“As for you,” Crowley said, squeezing Aziraphale’s waist again and making him look at him. 

“Yes?”

Crowley pressed a kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Aziraphale said with a smile. 

Bee and Hastur made retching noises, and Crowley laughed, shooting them two fingers. “Shut up, arseholes. I’ll meet you lot in the dining room.”

~*~O~*~

Two hours later, Aziraphale was standing in the corner of the studio with Jessica and Danielle, sipping wine and watching the band play. They were all at varying stages of drunkenness, all of them very loosey-goosey, but it was pleasant and fun. It was also _loud_ , a good deal louder than he was used to, but he was enjoying himself immensely. He’d been right - he _was_ getting to see another side of Crowley tonight, and although he’d seen Crowley relaxed and at ease before, when they were alone, he was at ease in a different way now, as he played guitar and led the band. Crowley just seemed to be _at home_ on the makeshift stage, and it warmed Aziraphale’s heart. Somehow, impossibly, he loved Crowley even more, now that he’d seen him this way. He looked forward to one day watching from backstage while Crowley performed for an arena. He was sure that would be a sight to see.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked up to see Jessica smiling at him. “Danielle and I were going to go in the lounge and finish off another bottle of wine. Would you like to join us?”

Aziraphale shot a glance at Crowley, who was laughing at something Dagon had said, then turned back to Jessica and Danielle. “I’d love to.”

“Lovely. Oi! You lot!” Danielle shouted to get the band’s attention. “Jess and I are kidnapping Aziraphale to get him drunk. You all behave yourselves.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second,” Crowley said, darting across the room unsteadily, almost comically. Aziraphale was surprised (but pleased) when he sauntered over, put his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head, and placed a wet, beer-tinged kiss right on his mouth. 

“Love you, ‘Ziraphale,” he said, his words a little slurred. 

Aziraphale just grinned back. “I love you, too, darling.”

Crowley beamed, kissed him again, then went back to the band. “Alright, give over, you pricks,” he called cheerfully to the smirking bandmates. Aziraphale chuckled with amusement, then followed Jessica and Danielle out of the studio and down the corridor. They made a pit stop by the kitchen to grab two bottles of wine and a corkscrew, then went to the lounge. The music was quieter there, more like a rhythmic thumping. Aziraphale found it comforting. 

After he’d opened the first bottle and poured each of the ladies a full glass, he poured one for himself. He was on his fifth glass tonight (he thought) and was feeling good. Pleasantly buzzed. Another glass or two and he’d be truly drunk, which didn’t seem all that unappealing. He made a mental note to himself to put a couple of water bottles and some paracetamol beside the bed before he and Crowley retired. 

“So, Aziraphale,” Danielle said, taking a sip of wine. “Tell us a little more about yourself.”

“Yes, please do,” Jessica agreed. “Everything we’ve learned about you, we’ve learned third hand.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell, honestly. I’m not a terribly interesting person.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that.”

“Nor I,” Danielle said. “Crowley would never take up with a bore.”

“But I really am,” Aziraphale insisted. “I’m just a bookshop owner from Soho, really. Nothing remarkable.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“I restore books, primarily.” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “I wasn’t kidding about being dull. Honestly, I haven’t the foggiest what Crowley sees in me.”

“I see it,” Jessica said. “I'll be honest, I wouldn’t have imagined someone like you would be his type, but you are. You just… work.”

“I agree,” Danielle chimed in. “I can’t explain it, because you’re so unlike anyone Crowley has ever dated in the past, but I think that might be part of the reason. You _are_ so different. It’s refreshing.”

“Well, I just hope he doesn’t grow tired of someone that’s different. That the shine doesn’t wear off of me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve known Crowley for over fifteen years and I’ve _never_ seen him with someone the way he is with you. It’s a completely different thing.”

“Like night and day,” Jessica chimed in. “And you’re _definitely_ the sunshine.”

Aziraphale smiled in response to that. He very much wanted to be the best thing in Crowley’s life, and hearing their words was comforting.

“Let me ask you something,” he said, leaning forward a bit unsteadily. “If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away.”

“You two have been the significant others of rock stars for a while.”

“We have. It’s been seventeen years for me and thirteen years for Jessica.”

“Can you give me any tips or advice? I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m terribly afraid of making a misstep.”

“You’re doing fine, so far.”

“Thank you, dear. But… do you have any advice?”

“Let’s see,” Jessica said, looking thoughtful. “I think the biggest piece of advice, the most important thing, is for you to trust him. That’s going to be the biggest hurdle, but also the touchstone of your relationship.”

“Jess is right. It’s not easy. There are constant temptations, especially on the road. Groupies and fans who throw themselves at them, and even some drugs, although that’s not a big problem anymore. The worst I know of in the last ten years or so is some pot every now and then. No hard stuff.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I have nothing against marijuana. But you say there are lots of women?”

“There are, But you don’t have to worry about that. Crowley is loyal to a fault when he’s in a relationship. His father was a bastard and ran around on his mother.”

“Yes, he’s told me.”

“So that won’t be an issue. And if you don’t have a problem with the occasional recreational joint, that’s not an issue, either.”

“My other advice is to be aware of the spotlight. Our significant others are used to being in the spotlight all the time - for better or worse. They’re used to being scrutinized and praised for every little thing. But that’s not healthy in a relationship. They need a break from the public spotlight, but they need to share the stage with us when they’re not living that public life. Does that make sense? It needs to be equitable.”

“I think so, yes.”

“Crowley is especially used to being the star. It's bound to be hard for him, but you need your own spotlight, in private.”

“I honestly don’t think that will be much of a problem. He's very attentive,” he said with a smile, then took a drink of his wine. “What about the fans? Crowley said that some of them can get… intense,” he asked, thinking of the emails.

“Some of them can, and they have no respect for privacy,” Jessica said, pouring herself another glass. “I’d just advise you to do your best to shake them off.”

Aziraphale thought back to the emails he’d gotten and felt justified in ignoring them. “I think I can do that.”

“Along the same lines, you need to guard your privacy jealously. Your social media needs to be locked down as tight as you can get it. All of it. Protect it.”

“I have two separate accounts on each platform,” Danielle said. “One that’s public, and one that’s strictly friends and family. I don’t put pictures of the kids on my public profile, or many candids of Ligur.”

“I only have one account, but I also control what I put on it. What you post _will_ get out. So I’d stay away from posting anything about Crowley or your relationship that you don’t want the world to find out.” 

“I learned that lesson the hard way,” Danielle said. “I thought my profile was secure, so I vented lightly about a fight with Ligur. He had a reporter ask him about it the next day.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah. It’s hard to get used to.”

“But it’s worth it,” Jessica said. 

“Yes, I rather think it will be.”

Danielle poured herself and Aziraphale another glass of wine. “It’s not easy, this public life. You always feel like you’re being watched and judged, and like I said, it’s a lot to get used to. You’re going to make missteps.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Aziraphale said, taking a drink. 

“You will. We all have, just like Dan and the facebook post.”

“But the press attention never lasts. It’s fleeting. It comes and goes. Your relationship - that’s what endures.”

“I do hope so.”

“It will,” Danielle assured him. “It’s important to have stability in this life, something that anchors you to the ground, and Crowley has been lacking that. He’s been surrounded by people - but still mostly alone. He’s looked for an anchor sometimes, but has only found capricious people who were interested in his fame or his money, and he hasn’t made a real connection. He’d all but given up. He told us he wasn’t going to put any more effort into finding someone, that the right person would just fall in his lap. Then you entered that contest…” she said with a smile. 

“You’re the best thing that ever could have happened to him,” Jessica supplied. “If you’re worried about what you bring to the table in a relationship with Crowley, I would say you bring stability. A home. A safe harbor. Crowley has needed that so desperately, and now he’s got it in you.”

“I can be that for him,” Aziraphale said. 

“Really, Aziraphale. We’re _so excited_ that he’s met you. We were starting to think that he was going to be a bachelor forever, never finding the right person.”

“But then he found you, and we all hope he never lets you go.”

“I hope that, too,” he said, with feeling. In his inebriated state, he almost cried at the very thought. Maybe he should switch to water, he thought as he drained his sixth glass. Then he poured another.


	21. Chapter 21

Crowley was stumbling a little as he made his way down the corridor towards the lounge and Aziraphale. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d seen his love, but he knew it had been too long. He needed to see him. Now.

He lurched into the lounge, smiling when he spotted his angel sitting on the couch. “There he is,” Crowley announced loudly, slurring. “The love of my long life.”

Aziraphale giggled when Crowley plopped down onto the couch beside him, throwing his arm around him, and giggled again when Crowley pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Hiya, angel. Missed you.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve had a lovely time talking with Jessica and Danielle.”

“And drinking!” Jessica said cheerfully.

“And drinking!” Aziraphale agreed, raising his glass, his words and movements a bit unsteady. Crowley was delighted. That meant that they were seeing each other drunk, which Aziraphale had said was another step towards them moving in together and getting married. Perfect.

He barely noticed the rest of the band stumbling into the lounge - his attention was focused on his sweetheart. He looked and smelled so good, and Crowley just loved him so much… Slyly, he put his hand on Aziraphale’s thigh and slid it upwards, towards his cock. 

Aziraphale giggled and put his hand on Crowley’s to stop it. 

“What’s the matter, angel? Don’t you want to?”

“I do, yes, but we have _guests_ right now, darling.”

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t miss the word ‘we’ in there and it sent him over the moon with happiness.

“After they leave, can we?” Crowley asked, nibbling on his ear.

“Oh, yes. I’m very much looking forward to that.”

“Right.” He turned away from Aziraphale and addressed his friends. “You lot, get the fuck out.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale admonished through a giggle. 

“We’re going, we’re going. Just calling a cab.”

“Us too,” Dagon said. “We’ll be over in the morning to pick up the car.”

“And I’m thinking Hastur and I are going to abuse your hospitality, like usual, and crash in the guest bedrooms. Yeah, Hastur?”

“Yeah, might as well.”

Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “Will you still fuck me if they’re in the house?”

Aziraphale’s face turned scarlet. “Crowley!”

“We can take a cab, too,” Bee amended, smiling wickedly. 

“How long will it take it to get here?” Crowley asked urgently. “Because ‘Ziraphale won’t let me accost him until you lot are settled.”

There were giggles from Jessica and Danielle, but Crowley didn’t care. “We’ll all go wait out front,” Ligur said.

The band and their significant others got to their feet a little woozily and started trading hugs and handshakes. It seemed to Crowley that the goodbyes took forever, but he was pleased to see Danielle and Jessica hugging Aziraphale tight. 

“We really are _so_ happy you’re here,” Danielle said as she hugged Aziraphale.

“We really are,” Jessica agreed. “We love you already.”

“Thank you, my dears. And I love you, too. Thank you so much for the kindness and the advice. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. We can’t wait to get to know you even better.”

As soon as he was able, Crowley put his arm back around Aziraphale’s waist, where it belonged. This close, he could get a whiff of his angel and couldn’t help nuzzling his neck. Once he was nuzzling him, he felt compelled to _kiss_ his neck, and then the next thing he was aware of, he had a handful of Aziraphale’s arse and a raging hard-on.

“I think that’s our cue,” Danielle said, smiling, and Aziraphale shook Crowley off a little, apologetically. “Guys, we need to go before Crowley makes a scene.”

Crowley managed to rein himself in enough to walk them to the door and say goodnight, although he wouldn’t release Aziraphale’s waist and his cock was still hard. He hoped no one would notice, but didn’t really care if they did. Not at the moment. 

After another round of extended goodbyes, they all left and suddenly, Crowley was alone with Aziraphale. As soon as the door closed, Crowley attacked, pushing Aziraphale up against the wall with his full body and grinding his cock against him. Aziraphale kissed him back just as eagerly, his tongue plundering Crowley’s mouth, his hands roaming and groping Crowley’s body. Within a second, Crowley was grinding up against him rhythmically, situating his thigh between Aziraphale’s. 

“I think we need to go to bed, or else I’m going to fuck you in the foyer,” Crowley said after he sucked a mark into Aziraphale’s neck. 

“Let’s go to bed, but we need to make a stop first.”

“A stop for what?” Crowley asked, still grinding against him, his hands clutched in Aziraphale’s bum, guiding his motions. 

“For water and painkillers. I think you and I may need them in the morning.”

“You’re so clever, angel. And so thoughtful. And so fucking _hot_. Is there any wonder why I love you so much?”

“I love you, too, dear. Now, do you want to go to the kitchen together, or would you prefer to go to the bedroom and I’ll meet you there?”

“You get waters. I’ll go get ready.” He nipped Aziraphale’s earlobe. “I love you. Hurry.”

“I’ll go as fast as I can.”

Crowley ground against him one more time, then released him. He stood there and watched as Aziraphale bustled off towards the kitchen until his angel was out of sight, then hastened to the bedroom himself, on unsteady feet. 

Once he arrived at the bedroom, he undressed himself as quickly and efficiently as he could, only falling over twice. Aziraphale still wasn’t back once he was naked, so he climbed onto the bed and lay across it as seductively as he was able, on his side, propped on his elbow with his legs splayed, so his hard cock was fully visible. The room was spinning just a bit and he willed it to stop. Thankfully, it obeyed. 

Aziraphale came in a minute later, stopping at the doorway with two bottles of water and painkillers in his hand. Crowley smirked at him. 

“Hiya, angel,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, do you know that?”

“Come over here and let me show you how ridiculous I am.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just go to bed, darling?” Aziraphale asked, making his way over to the bedside tables, putting the water and paracetamol down. 

Crowley got up so he was standing on his knees and tried to ignore the way the room was spinning again. “Nuh-uh. Don’t wanna go to bed. See this cock?” he asked, stroking it.

“Yes, it’s very nice dear,” Aziraphale said indulgently, unbuttoning his waistcoat and toeing off his shoes, teetering but not falling over. “Absolutely - _hic_ \- absolutely my favorite cock in the world.”

“Well, see, I have this problem with it sometimes, and I need your help.”

Aziraphale was smiling and had started on the buttons of his shirt. “Problems, like what?”

“Whenever I think of you, it gets like this. Hard as hell.”

“It does, does it?”

“Uh-huh. It’s like a disease I have. An affliction, if you will. And the only cure is —“

“More cowbell?”

“Cheeky. No. It’s for you to make love to me.”

“That’s the only cure?” Aziraphale asked, shrugging out of his shirt and waistcoat, going to work on his belt and trousers. Crowley watched avidly. 

“Yes. That’s the only cure. You have to make me come, or I don’t know what would happen. Somethin’ terrible.”

“Perhaps your balls would turn blue?”

“Or worse,” Crowley said in a dire tone. “It might be possible to _die_ from a hard-on.”

Aziraphale laughed merrily. “Oh, I don’t think that’s possible,” he said as he dropped his trousers and stepped out of them, pulling his socks off as he did. He was clad only in his tartan boxers and undershirt now, and Crowley had never seen anything so sexy. 

“I don’t want to find out. So will you help? You’d be saving my life…”

“My dear, are you even _sober_ enough for sex?”

“I’m not close to sober, but that shouldn’t matter. I want to have sex with you all the time. Not just when I’m drunk. You know that. Are _you_ too drunk for sex?”

“No, I don’t think so, although I’m quite drunk.”

“So we should have drunk sex,” Crowley said, proud of himself. “And we should prob’ly do it soon, before one of us passes out.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“Good. Great. Get up here,” Crowley said, releasing his cock and reaching for Aziraphale, pulling him up onto the bed. As soon as he was close enough, Crowley planted their mouths together in a sloppy kiss, sucking on Aziraphale’s tongue and gripping his arse. The next thing Crowley was aware of, they were rolling on the bed, hands roaming, grinding their cocks together eagerly. Crowley felt frustrated by the fact that Aziraphale was still wearing his vest and pants and started working feverishly to get them off as best he could without breaking the kiss. Aziraphale seemed to realize what he was doing and helped, shoving down his boxers and kicking them free. As soon as he was able, Crowley had a hand wrapped around Aziraphale’s cock, pumping it eagerly. 

“Fuck, angel. Your fucking cock feels so fucking good…”

Aziraphale took advantage of the broken kiss to whip off his vest, leaving him as naked as Crowley. Without a second’s delay, Crowley went to work showering his chest with wet kisses. Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s hair. 

“Oh, my darling, your hand feels so good on me.”

Crowley suckled a nipple. “Want to feel my mouth on you?”

“Not right now.”

He looked up, pouting. “Why not?”

Aziraphale kissed him quickly. “Because I’m afraid I’ll come too soon, and our evening will be done.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, can I suck you off in a little while? Maybe you could come on my face.”

“Would you like that?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Crowley. Anything at all. You should know that. What would you like _me_ to do?”

“Just… touch me, for now. Touch me and kiss me.”

“Whatever you want, my love,” he said, putting his hand on the back of Crowley’s head to drag him into a kiss and sending the other down to close around Crowley’s prick. Crowley thrust into Aziraphale’s hand involuntarily, whimpering a little, speeding up the motions of his hand on Aziraphale. They lay side by side for a few minutes, exchanging heated kisses, masturbating each other. 

“I want you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said almost breathlessly while Crowley sucked his neck, leaving another mark. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know, angel. All I know is that I want _you_.”

“You can have me, darling. I belong to you. And I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”

Crowley groaned, his mind fuzzed by alcohol and lust. He thrust into Aziraphale’s hand a little more while he tried to think. 

“Can I fuck your thighs again?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Fuck yes. But I don’t want you to come. I want to suck you off, so you can come in my mouth and on my face.” 

“If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. Lubricant?”

“I’ll get it. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Crowley kissed him one more time, then rolled to his bedside table to fetch the lube. When he came back, Aziraphale had rolled over onto his side, away from Crowley, with his back facing him. He took a minute to appreciate the sight, stroking himself lightly, thinking that no man had ever had a more perfect arse. And certainly no better thighs. Fuck. Aziraphale was temptation incarnate.

He slid up until he was flush against Aziraphale’s back and pressed little kisses to his shoulder. He rubbed his cock up and down the crease of Aziraphale’s bum, enjoying the friction, while he struggled with the bottle one-handed. Aziraphale rolled his hips backwards, providing _more_ friction for Crowley’s cock. When he had the bottle of lube open, he pulled back a little and urged Aziraphale to part his legs so he could spread some lube between them. Then he slicked his cock and tossed the open bottle aside, guiding his cock between Aziraphale’s legs. Aziraphale closed them and Crowley groaned, pressing his body back against Aziraphale’s. 

“Fuck, angel,” Crowley said, kissing his shoulder, starting to thrust lightly. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Am I tight enough for you?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. You’re perfect. Your thighs are so thick and strong… I get hard just thinking about them.” He showered Aziraphale’s back with kisses, picking up speed. “I think about your thighs all the time. I fantasize about them.”

“Well, they’re yours. You can fuck them anytime it’s appropriate.”

Crowley sucked yet another mark into his neck and sped up his thrusts. It felt _unbelievably_ good. He didn’t think he’d ever felt anything better. How was it that every sex act with Aziraphale was the best he’d ever had? Was that even possible? He didn’t know, but it sure seemed that way. 

“Oh, Crowley… it feels so good. I love your cock _so_ much…”

“Tell me about it,” he requested, feeling himself get closer to the edge.

“It's perfect, my darling. The perfect length and thickness for me. It’s like it was _made_ just for me.”

“I was made for you, sweetheart,” Crowley insisted, his voice choppy with exertion. “I was created specifically for you. To love you, to make you happy, to make you feel good. That’s my purpose in life.”

“Crowley… Crowley… can I touch myself?”

“Yeah, but don’t come. I’m fucking greedy for your come. I want it all to myself.”

Crowley fucked him a little harder, grunting a little with each thrust, trying not to come yet. He didn’t want this to end - he _never_ wanted this to end. But he was getting close, and he knew it wouldn't be long. 

“Kiss me,” he requested, and Aziraphale craned his neck to turn and kiss him, their mouths open and tongues swirling. It only served to make Crowley _hotter_ and he felt orgasm creep closer. 

“Angel… angel… I’m getting close.”

“Yes, my love. Come for me. Use me to get yourself off. Cover me with it. I want to feel it on my skin…”

Aziraphale squeezed his legs tighter and that was all it took. Crowley erupted, spilling hot and helpless between his legs, biting Aziraphale’s shoulder to muffle his cry. He was lost on a sea of orgasmic bliss, his eyes screwed up tight, feeling the pleasure spilling out of him. Finally, after an age, he was done, left spent and panting, weak as a kitten. 

Aziraphale lay there for a few moments while Crowley struggled to get his bearings, but slowly pulled away. Crowley whimpered when his cock was free, and then again when he realized Aziraphale had gotten off of the bed. But he was still shuddering with aftershocks, trying to catch his breath, and most importantly, trying not to fall asleep. He battled with himself for consciousness, his eyes heavy, but he opened them when he heard the water turn off in the en-suite. The door opened and Aziraphale came out, cleaned up and carrying a wet rag. His cock was still desperately hard, and Crowley knew what he had to do.

On a sudden second wind, Crowley rolled gracelessly off the bed and onto his knees, pulling Aziraphale over by the hips. As soon as he had that gorgeous cock in front of him, he opened his mouth and took the head in, his eyes locked on Aziraphale. Aziraphale dropped the wet cloth on the bed beside him and leaned his head back, moaning, his hands coming up to grip Crowley’s head the way he liked. He closed his eyes and started sucking, hoping to make this the best blowjob Aziraphale had ever had in his life. 

“Oh, my darling, your mouth is so hot… so good… I love the way you suck me.”

Crowley bobbed his head eagerly, using his hand to pump what his mouth couldn’t reach just yet. He made the greedy, slurping sounds that he knew Aziraphale loved and hummed around him, vibrating his cock a little. Aziraphale’s hands tightened in his hair. 

”Crowley… Crowley… you’re too good.. I’m not going to last like this.”

Good. Crowley was greedy for his come, wanted to taste it, wanted to feel it… he opened wider and took him deeper.

Aziraphale groaned. “Fuck, Crowley… you're so good at this… just so good… and I love to watch your pretty mouth stretch around my cock. Your mouth was _made_ to be fucked.”

Crowley took him as deep as he could and bobbed. Aziraphale swore. 

“Yes, _fuck_ , suck my cock, beloved. I know you love it. Suck me harder… make me come. I’m so close.”

Crowley sucked harder, more fervently, dying for him to explode. Crowley _needed_ to taste him. He _needed_ it.

“Ah! Ah! Here I come, Crowley! Get ready! Ah! Ah! Fuck!”

Crowley pulled off in a hurry, replacing his mouth with his hand and jacking him as hard and fast as he could. His mouth was open and poised at the tip of Aziraphale’s cock, waiting, but he didn't have to wait long. With a strangled sound, Aziraphale erupted, his cock splattering the inside and outside of Crowley’s mouth with hot come. Crowley loved it and kept jacking Aziraphale, milking him for more, until Aziraphale used his hands on Crowley’s head to push him back, gasping for breath. Crowley closed his mouth with a smile and swallowed the come happily. 

Aziraphale stood there for a moment, his chest heaving and his eyes closed, and Crowley just waited patiently. When he opened his eyes, he smiled up at him, drunkenly, stupidly. Aziraphale smiled back, making his heart trill in his chest. 

“I made a mess of you,” Aziraphale said, his voice tremulous. 

“I love when you make a mess of me,” Crowley replied. “Best mess ever.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Will you let me clean you now?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah.”

The angel picked up the discarded washcloth and carefully, gently, cleaned his face. Crowley just gazed up at him with so much love and adoration, he thought he may burst with it.

When he’d finished cleaning his face, Aziraphale carelessly tossed the washcloth away and bent to kiss Crowley’s upturned mouth. 

“I love you,” he breathed when the kiss broke. 

“Angel, I love you so fucking much…”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “Can I hold you now?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

They got into the bed and under the covers, situating themselves until they were wrapped in each other’s arms, belly to belly, their legs tangled, sharing sweet kisses and sweet nothings. Crowley sighed happily and rested his head on the pillow. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. You really are.”

Aziraphale gave him a grin. “Like fucking my thighs that much, do you?”

“Oh, haha, wisearse,” he griped, and Aziraphale giggled. Crowley grinned and darted forward to kiss his lips. He was getting sleepy and his thoughts weren’t coming as easily. “I mean it. You are absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t wait to marry you someday.”

“I feel the same about you, my love.”

“Good. Did you enjoy yourself tonight? With the band?”

“I did, very much.”

“Would you be willing to do it again sometime?”

“Anytime.”

“Perfect. Would you forgive me if I passed out now?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m going to pass out with you. I love you, Crowley.”

Crowley tried to say ‘I love you, too,’ but he was never sure if the words got out before sleep claimed him.


	22. Chapter 22

_Thursday, 15 July_

Aziraphale kissed Crowley goodbye on Thursday morning as he always did, then went to the kitchen to rinse out their coffee mugs, humming to himself. It had been a perfect evening - then morning - but then, all of their evenings and mornings were perfect. It seemed that lately, they were spending more time together than not. They’d almost worked out a little routine: Crowley spent the night with Aziraphale two or three nights a week, and Aziraphale spent the whole weekend with Crowley, when he wasn’t at the shop. He knew Crowley was itching for him to spend _every_ night at his flat, and Aziraphale wanted to move in soon, but Crowley’s flat just didn't feel like _home_ to him. He hoped he would get used to it and it would feel like home soon. In truth, he was sure it would. He just needed more time. 

For now, he picked up the stack of books to take to the shop and locked up his flat, descending the stairs to the pavement. He was greeted by the usual sight: a small gathering of paparazzi with cameras aimed at him. The press attention had waned somewhat and there were only a handful of reporters left. As he’d taken to doing over the last few weeks, he smiled at them and made a little small talk as he made his way to the shop door. 

“Good morning, gentlemen. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? Reginald, it’s good to see you again. Are you feeling better?”

“Sure am,” Reginald said. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Oh, and Bryan, your book should be in today’s shipment. You can come in and check after about three, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, Mr. Fell.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, trying to juggle the books and his keys. Much to his embarrassment, the keys fell. “Oh, drat.”

“I’ve got them, Mr. Fell,” said one of the paparazzi. 

“Oh, thank you, David. You’re a lifesaver.”

David used the keys to open the door for Aziraphale, then stepped back respectfully. Aziraphale gave them all a smile, wished them a good day, then stepped into the quiet shop, closing the door on them. 

It was a bit of a slow morning; although traffic had picked back up after the initial lull that came when the press descended, it hadn’t gotten back to the levels they’d been at before. He was glad, though, in a way. If traffic were to stay light, it wouldn’t be hurting him much to go on holiday with Crowley in a couple of weeks. 

An hour after he arrived, Tracy came in for her shift, then two hours later, Newt arrived. Once they were both there, Aziraphale retired to the back room to peruse the publisher’s listings for more inventory. He sat down at the computer and studiously ignored the emails. He’d let Tracy deal with that. 

He was just starting to get peckish and thinking about lunch when Tracy came into the back room. “Hey, Aziraphale, have you got a second?”

“For you, my dear, I’ll make several seconds,” he joked with a smile, turning in the rolling chair to face her. “What can I do for you?”

“We’ve been getting some strange calls.”

“Customers requesting odd books?”

“No, they’re hangup calls. Newt and I have been getting them for a few days, and we don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure it’s just a malfunction with the phone company or something,” he explained. “Or maybe a telemarketer. You know how they don’t always answer right away.”

“No, this isn’t that. These are _hang up calls_. We answer the phone, greet them, then there’s a click and the line is dead.”

“How very odd. Perhaps I should ring the phone company to see if there’s a problem with the line.”

“Or perhaps someone is being a creep.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” he chuckled. “Why on earth --”

“You _know_ why someone might do that, Aziraphale,” Tracy said. “You _know_ why. And it’s giving us the willies.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Aziraphale said with a reassuring smile.

“I hope you’re right,” she said doubtfully. “Are you going to lunch with Crowley today?”

“No, actually, he had a prior engagement. Lunch with his manager. So I’m on my own.” He looked at his watch. “Oh, goodness, it’s time for me to go, isn’t it? Well, I’ll scuttle off so I can get back and you can go eat, as well.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He bustled out of the shop and went to his favorite bistro, sitting down at a table in the corner with a book to read while he ate. When he was done, he went back to the shop, shadowed by the paparazzi, who kept a respectable distance. 

Once he was back in the shop, he manned the front with Newt while Tracy went to eat, helping him with a couple of customers. Between customers, they chatted easily, talking about what they were going to do with their upcoming holidays. 

“Where are you going?” Newt asked. “Where is he taking you?”

“We’ve decided to go to his estate in Scotland for the week.”

“Oh! I’d been expecting him to take you somewhere grand. Not that his estate in Scotland isn’t grand...”

Aziraphale grinned. “It’s fine. We talked about going to all sorts of places, and very nearly decided to go to the tropics, but Crowley insists that the tropics are more enjoyable in the winter. He says it’s less crowded and you appreciate the warmth more when you’re coming from a cold climate.”

“I suppose that makes sense. And he would know.”

The phone rang and Newt picked it up. “A.Z. Fell and Company, this is Newt, can I help you?” He only had the receiver to his ear for a moment before he lowered it with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s another hang up call.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And if the pattern holds, they’ll call back in just a minute. They only call three times, then they leave us alone for the rest of the day.”

“That _really_ sounds like a technical glitch with the telephone company.” 

“I don’t think it is,” Newt said. 

Two minutes later, the phone rang again. Aziraphale watched as Newt sighed, defeated, then picked it up. 

“A.Z. Fell and Company, this is Newt, can I - oh, bugger.”

“Did it happen again?”

“Yes,” Newt said, replacing the receiver in the cradle. “Now they’ll call back a third time then they’ll disappear until about this time tomorrow.”

Two minutes later, on the nose, the phone rang again. Newt reached for it, but Aziraphale waved him off. 

“I’ll get it, dear,” he said with a smile, then lifted the receiver, bringing it to his ear. “A.Z. Fell and Company, this is Aziraphale speaking, how may I help you?”

“ _You’re going to burn in hell. Stay away from him, bitch!_ ” said a low, menacing voice, then there was a click and they were gone. 

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide and he felt like he’d been doused in cold water. He just stood there, frozen, trying to process what had just happened. 

“Aziraphale? Are you alright?”

He snapped out of it as best he could. “I’m fine, dear. Tickety boo,” he said with a smile he didn’t feel, replacing the receiver. 

“Who was it?”

“It was nobody,” he said. “Just as you said, a hangup.”

Newt narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

Thankfully, Tracy came back and broke the moment. As soon as he was able, Aziraphale retired to the back room, rattled. It took a couple of hours of meditative work on his latest book before he was able to put the incident out of his mind.

~*~O~*~

_Tuesday, 20 July_

Aziraphale left the shop after closing a few days later, intending to go to the grocery. Crowley was coming over later in the evening to spend the night, and Aziraphale thought he’d like to make some dinner for him. He hadn’t cooked for anyone but himself in quite a long time, but still enjoyed it. Besides, it wasn’t healthy to eat out all the time as he and Crowley did. In fact, he had gained four pounds since he’d started seeing Crowley. It hardly showed, and he was secure enough in Crowley’s love not to worry that Crowley would love him _less_ if he gained a bit of weight, but he still thought it would be best to prepare some fresh, healthy food every now and then. On top of that, he rather liked the idea of preparing food for Crowley, of being _domestic_. 

That last thought was so silly, he blushed and chastised himself mentally for it. So, so silly. 

He grabbed one of the baskets at the front of the shop and set off down the aisles, humming to himself. For all his noble ideas about cooking for Crowley, he hadn’t any idea what to make. He’d been pondering all day and hoping something would come to him, but hadn’t been hit with a burst of inspiration. Well, it was time to make a decision. Maybe he should ask Crowley? Yes, that seemed logical. He should have thought of that hours ago.

Pulling out his mobile, he scrolled to Crowley’s contact and sent a message. 

Aziraphale: _I’d like to make dinner for you tonight. Is there anything you’d like?_

Crowley didn’t answer right away, and Aziraphale put his mobile back in his pocket while he browsed, looking for inspiration. He was looking at the aubergines and thinking about a parmesan when the mobile went off, playing his text tone. He pulled it out with a smile but his smile faded when he saw the message. 

Blocked Number: _I see you. You can’t hide from me, whore._

Aziraphale’s blood ran cold. He looked around the shop, his eyes wide, looking at all the people surrounding him. Nobody seemed to be paying him any attention, but that didn’t soothe him, and it didn’t prove anything. They might be great actors.

Suddenly, Aziraphale felt like he was being watched. It was a feeling he’d gotten somewhat used to over the last few weeks, but this felt different. Malevolent. And he knew he was probably safe. He _knew_ that… but he was still rattled. Properly unsettled. His fight or flight instinct had kicked in and he felt very much like running away. 

But what good would that do? He had to go on with his life. He couldn’t hide forever. What was it Crowley had said? ‘Damn the torpedoes.’ He was safe. It was probably nothing, just some random person who had gotten bored and was having a go at him. Maybe, if it kept up, he’d tell someone, but for now, he thought it was best to just ignore it. It was probably just a practical joke. That’s all it was. A very unfunny one, but a practical joke. 

Still, he hurried through his shopping for the ingredients for a parmesan, eyeing everyone who came near him warily. Oddly, he felt safer when he got back outside and was in view of the paparazzi again. When he got home, behind his locked door, he felt much better, and by the time Crowley arrived an hour later, he’d almost forgotten it had happened. Silly. He was so silly and had gotten the vapors over nothing. 

He didn’t mention it to Crowley.

~*~O~*~

_Friday, 23 July_

“So I was thinking, angel,” Crowley said from across the table over lunch at the little bistro near the shop. 

“Oh?” Aziraphale teased. “That could be dangerous.”

Crowley chuckled. “Cheeky. I had a talk with Anathema. Remember I had asked her to be on the lookout for charitable opportunities?”

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s found one you may be interested in.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Do tell.”

“It’s a gala. Kind of an awards show-slash-fundraiser. Basically an excuse for rich and famous people to dress up and congratulate each other on being the masters of the universe. But it raises a lot of money for charity.”

“I’ve never been to a gala,” Aziraphale said, wonderingly. 

“Well, I haven’t been to a _ton_ of them. They’re alright, I suppose. She thought that night might be a good time to make our public debut as a couple. They’ve asked me to perform. To headline, actually. What do you say? Would you be interested?”

“A date with you? I’d be _extremely_ interested,” Aziraphale flirted. “When is it?”

“I don’t know, exactly. A month or so, I think. Maybe two months. I didn’t get a lot of details because I wasn’t sure you’d be interested.”

“Well, I am. I assume it’s black tie?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So I’ll need to rent a tuxedo.”

“No, you won’t. Designers fall all over themselves to design clothes for the celebrities who attend these things.”

“But I’m not a celebrity,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“You’re the _date_ of a celebrity. They’ll still be clamoring to dress you, I promise. People are going to be _very_ interested in you.”

“Well that’s not intimidating at all,” Aziraphale said jokingly. 

“So what do you say, angel? Will you be my date to this gala, and let me show you off on the red carpet?”

“Of course I will, darling,” Aziraphale said. “I’m very much looking forward to it.”

~*~O~*~

_Wednesday, 28 July_

Things had been quiet over the last several days - well, mostly. The shop still got hangup calls that were coming with more frequency now, no longer in clusters but scattered throughout the day. Aziraphale had gotten another few texts from a blocked number, which was frightening, but he was convinced that if he ignored them, they would eventually go away. 

He and Crowley weren’t supposed to see each other tonight - Aziraphale actually had plans. He was having dinner and discussing business with an acquaintance, Robert Wilkins of Wilkins Books. Mr. Wilkins had some first editions that he was anxious to be rid of, and Aziraphale was equally anxious to acquire them. They were having dinner to discuss which books were available and negotiate a price. Aziraphale had been looking forward to it since he’d made the appointment a couple of days ago. 

They agreed to meet at a little place near Mr. Wilkins’ shop and had a nice dinner, exchanging gossip about the people they knew in the rare book community. After, they paid the bill and went back to Wilkins Books so Aziraphale could get a look at the books he wanted to buy. He nearly salivated when he saw them. Wilkins had _two_ Wilde first editions, and both of them needed repairs. He also had a Mary Shelley and two Byrons, all also in need of repair. Aziraphale would likely sell those for a profit, at least the Shelley, but the Wildes he intended to keep, and was giddy with excitement. He tried not to let on how excited he actually was, not wanting to ruin negotiations, but it wasn’t easy. In truth, he was willing to pay nearly whatever Mr. Wilkins asked, at least for the Wilde books. 

Once they settled on a price, they had a drink to celebrate, toasting to dead writers and the great works they left behind. They made arrangements for payment and delivery, and it was earlier than he’d expected - but still dark - when Aziraphale left to catch the tube. He was over the moon with excitement, and texted Crowley to tell him the wonderful news. 

Aziraphale: _I got the books!_  
Crowley: _All of them?_  
Aziraphale: _All of them I could afford for now. I bought five._  
Crowley: _That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!_  
Aziraphale: _I’m over the moon. :) Since I’m done early, would you like to come over? Stay the night?_  
Crowley: _You know I would. I’ll be there in 30mins. I love you xx_  
Aziraphale: _I love you too xx_

Aziraphale’s already bubbly mood improved. 

He got off the tube at the station nearest his flat and started walking home, still happy. Why wouldn’t he be? He’d had a fantastic evening, and now he was going to have a fantastic night, wrapped in his love’s arms. Everything was perfect. 

Three streets away from the shop, he started to get that feeling of being followed. He looked over his shoulder anxiously, but didn’t see anything unusual. Everything seemed to be normal. Still, Aziraphale had the creeps that he couldn’t shake. Something was off. He could sense it.

His footsteps sounded loud on the pavement and he sped up towards home, barely refraining from running. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty and he was more frightened than he’d ever been in his life. He told himself firmly that there was nothing to be afraid of, that he was being ridiculous, but he wasn’t able to think clearly. Fear had taken a hold of him and all he could think of was that he needed to get home. Now. 

He was just a street away when he heard someone call his name from behind him. His heart stopped and he felt faint, but he turned around, wide eyed, to see Gabriel stepping out of the shadows, smiling at him. 

“Hey there, sunshine.”

Aziraphale didn’t know if he was relieved or furious. A mixture of both, he thought. “Gabriel, what the _hell_ are you doing, lurking in the shadows?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Did you get the flowers?”

“Yes, I did,” he replied in a frosty voice. “All three times.”

“You didn’t like them?”

“I threw them in the bin.”

Gabriel frowned. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“If I wanted to talk to you, I would. But since I haven’t reached out, you could assume that I _don’t_.”

“Ah, come on, sunshine. You should at least give me a chance to buy you a drink.”

“I have no desire to have a drink with you.”

“Look, I’m sorry I dumped you. Especially on Valentine’s Day. It’s been the biggest mistake of my life. I just want another chance. Please?”

“Absolutely not. I’m in a new relationship with a man I love very much, which I’m quite sure you know about, since it’s been all over the news. I’m completely happy.”

“We were happy, Aziraphale. We were _good_ together.”

“We may have been somewhat happy at the beginning, but that was a long, long time ago, and whatever happiness I had with you died soon after.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I assure you, I do.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Fell? Are you alright?”

Aziraphale whirled around to find two of the paparazzi he’d grown friendly with standing behind him. He nearly collapsed in relief. “Oh, hello, Reginald. David.”

“Is this guy bothering you?” Reginald asked, stepping forward. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he was, but he was just leaving.”

“Sunshine…”

“Don’t call me that,” Aziraphale snapped, whirling back around to face Gabriel. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear _anything_ from you. You and I are _completely_ over, and I never have any desire to see you again. Am I clear?”

“C’mon…” Gabriel chided. 

“I asked if I was clear,” Aziraphale said in a firm voice. He sensed Reginald and David stepping up behind him, flanking him. He hoped they looked properly menacing. 

“Whatever,” Gabriel sneered. “You were boring as hell and shit in the sack anyway. That asshole can have you. Have a shitty life, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, and the same to you,” Aziraphale said coolly. 

He watched Gabriel walk away, feeling relieved, and David said, “Are you alright, Mr. Fell?”

Aziraphale turned back to the photographers. “I’m just fine, gentlemen. Thank you for coming when you did. I don't suppose there’s any chance I could talk you into not repeating what you just heard, is there?”

“We ain’t heard a thing,” Reginald said. 

David nodded agreement. “Not nothing.”

Aziraphale felt like sagging with relief. He’d had quick, vivid nightmares about a confrontation with his ex being splashed on the society papers. “Oh, thank you so much.”

“Can we walk you home? So he don’t come back?”

“Yes, I think I’d like that very much, dear. And I’ll be sure to tip the both of you off if Crowley and I ever do anything interesting or noteworthy.”

“You don’t have to do that. We’re happy to help.”

“Well, I thank you,” Aziraphale said, then set out towards home, flanked by his own guardian angels, wondering how this came to be his life.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley finds out.

_Friday, 6 August_

The hangup calls hadn’t stopped, they had actually grown more frequent, and when Aziraphale answered them, he was treated to more of the same. ‘ _Fuck you, bitch.’ ‘Burn in hell.’ ‘He deserves better than you, cunt.’ ‘Stay away from him, arsehole.’_ It sounded like the same voice, and they only spoke when Aziraphale answered the phone. He never told Newt and Tracy that it was happening, but he knew they knew. Tracy gently suggested installing caller ID, and Aziraphale agreed, saying he’d do that just as soon as he was back from Scotland. He only had a day and a half to go before he left, after all. He could deal with it until then. 

He’d also gotten even more texts from a blocked number that were vaguely threatening. They always left him feeling rattled for a while after. There was no denying that they were targeted at him now because of his relationship with Crowley, but he had no idea what to do about them. He figured he should tell Crowley, at the least, but didn’t want to bother him or worry him with them. There was a large part of him that believed it would all blow over, that if he ignored it, it would eventually go away. As the frequency and intensity of the harassment increased, he was starting to doubt that a little. 

But that was fine. It would all be fine. Today was Friday, and he only had to work the rest of the day and half the day tomorrow. Then he and Crowley would climb into his Bentley and drive to Scotland for a week. Aziraphale fully intended to shut his mobile off the entire week and just live in the moment with his love. He couldn’t wait. 

The books from Wilkins had been delivered earlier in the day, and as a result, poor Newt and Tracy had hardly seen him. He’d been in the back room, admiring his prizes, deciding which to work on first. He thought he could get the Mary Shelley done before he had to leave for Scotland, so he started on that, casting longing looks to the Oscar Wilde books. They would be here when he got back, though. A nice treat.

Aziraphale hardly noticed when Tracy came into the back room, sitting down at the computer to work. 

“Oh, hello, dear,” he said with a smile when he _did_ notice her a few minutes later. “What are you working on?”

“I’m finalizing details with the website company. Getting them ready to go when we come back.”

“Oh, yes. Jolly good.”

“I’m also checking the email.”

Aziraphale stiffened a little, then sniffed. “Well, as you know, unless they’re complimentary or urgent, I don’t wish to know about them.”

“Alright, alright,” she said. 

They were quiet a little while, and Aziraphale had forgotten she was there again when she said his name in a tone he really didn’t like. 

“What is it, dear?”

“I think you should see this.”

Aziraphale didn’t want to. He _really_ didn’t want to, but he went to the computer, standing beside her. On the screen was the list of emails they’d gotten since she’d last checked a few days ago. Tracy had already weeded out the reporters, he noticed, so there were just a list of some private citizens. Some of them had been opened, and Aziraphale assumed she’d saved them because they were positive. But scattered through them were four emails from John Doe. Aziraphale felt his stomach swoop unpleasantly. 

He didn't pretend not to know why she’d brought him over. “I assume they’re rude?”

She clicked on one and it read, “ _You’re a whore and you don’t deserve him. I know you’re cheating on him. I should kill you for that._ ”

Aziraphale’s mouth went dry and his palms were sweating. No one had ever overtly threatened him before, and he had no idea what to do. 

“Aziraphale…” Tracy started. 

“What do the others say?” he asked in as brave a voice as he could. 

One by one, they opened the other three emails, and Aziraphale felt his terror grow with each one. The last one featured a photo of Aziraphale opening the door to the stairwell that went to his flat two days before. 

Just then, his mobile went off and he knew without looking who it was. He pulled it out with trembling hands to see a message from a blocked number. 

Blocked number: _I can’t wait to destroy you and your life._

Aziraphale closed his eyes and sent up a little prayer for protection. 

“Aziraphale, you _have_ to do something. You _have_ to. This is terrifying, and it’s only getting worse. He’s advanced to threatening you. There is _no denying_ these are threats.”

“No, there’s no denying that.”

“Let me call the police.”

“No! No, don’t do that. Let’s just leave it for now.”

“But!”

“Only for a little while. I’ll tell Crowley while we’re in Scotland and we’ll come up with a plan. I don’t know what, but we’ll come up with _something_.”

“Do you swear to me, Aziraphale? Swear on your books. Swear on _Crowley_.”

“I swear. In fact, I’ll tell him tomorrow on the way to Scotland, so we have several hours to discuss it and come up with a plan.”

“Okay… but I really think part of that plan should be telling the police.”

“I’ll discuss that with Crowley, too. I promise.”

“Alright. I just want you to be safe.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“You see that you do.”

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale had already packed for Scotland, so when the shop closed on Friday night, Crowley came and picked him and his bags up to spend the night at Crowley’s that night. They went to a nice dinner at an upscale restaurant in Mayfair, then came back to Crowley’s flat. Both men were pleasantly full and feeling lazy, though not ready for bed, so they settled into Crowley’s couch to watch a funny film on Netflix. They snuggled up in their usual position, with Crowley in the corner of the couch and Aziraphale nestled under his arm, and turned on the film. 

They were about halfway through when Aziraphale’s mobile went off, indicating he had a call. He dislodged himself from Crowley’s side to reach out to the coffee table and get it, figuring it must be Tracy, but froze when he saw it was from a blocked number. Without delay, he pressed ‘ignore’. 

“Who was that?” Crowley asked. 

“Nobody,” Aziraphale said with a smile, settling back into his side. 

Two minutes later the phone rang again, and Aziraphale leaned forward to get it with his heart sinking. Once again, it was from a blocked number. Once again, he ignored it. Crowley didn’t say anything that time, just gave Aziraphale a look. Aziraphale gave him a false smile and snuggled back in, but he was disturbed and couldn’t get comfortable. 

The third time it rang, Aziraphale felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. He reached up to silence the phone, suddenly very on edge. 

Crowley paused the movie. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asked, sounding concerned. 

“Nothing,” he lied, not sure why he was doing so. “A telemarketer.”

“A telemarketer at nine on a Friday night?” Crowley asked doubtfully. 

“It’s no big deal.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying to me. What are you hiding?”

“Crowley, it’s _really_ no big deal…”

The phone rang again and Aziraphale looked at it, despairing. 

“Let me answer that,” Crowley said, reaching for the phone. 

“Crowley…”

“I mean it, angel. Let me answer that. Now.” His tone brooked no argument. Feeling helpless, Aziraphale handed him the phone. 

Crowley swiped the green button to answer it and put the phone to his ear. “This is Crowley. Who the hell is this?”

Aziraphale watched with bated breath while Crowley sat there, his expression growing blacker and blacker as the person said nothing. 

“Listen to me and listen good. I don’t know who you are or what you want,” he growled into the mouthpiece, “but if you don’t stop calling Aziraphale, I will find you and make you fucking sorry. Never call this number again.” Then he hung up and turned to Aziraphale, his expression furious. “Care to tell me what the fuck that was about?” he asked. His voice was deceptively composed, but his eyes were flashing angrily. 

“I will. I’ll tell you everything. But you have to promise me not to get upset…”

“Oh, It’s too late for that, angel. I’m already upset. Now, _tell me_. I want to know fucking everything.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “I’ve… been getting some harassing calls. And messages. And emails.”

“Calls, messages, and emails,” Crowley repeated, his voice quiet. It scared Aziraphale a little. He had no fear that Crowley would ever hurt him, none at all, but he still wasn’t looking forward to seeing Crowley angry. 

“How long has this been going on?”

Aziraphale was sheepish when he said, “Since the interviews.”

Crowley swore foully and got to his feet. Aziraphale thought he was going to walk out, but instead he just started to pace the floor, clenching and releasing his fists, muttering to himself, looking for all the world like a caged predator. 

“What do they say?” he demanded, still pacing. 

“I...I don’t think I should tell you. You’re already angry.”

“You’re _goddamn right_ I’m angry. _Tell me_.”

“Well, they seem to be coming from a person who isn’t happy that you and I are together.”

“What do they _say_ , Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale didn't see any way around it. He needed to tell him everything. So he bit back a sigh and said, “They say a variety of things, although I’m reasonably sure they're all from the same person. It’s usually some variant of ‘stay away from him’.”

“Have they threatened you?”

“Well, the messages were all _vaguely_ threatening, but they hadn’t been _overtly_ threatening until the ones I opened today. They accused me of cheating on you and threatened to kill me for it.”

“They threatened to kill you?!”

“Yes.”

“For cheating on me?” 

“Yes. I can only assume they saw me at dinner with Mr. Wilkins - or perhaps witnessed my run-in with Gabriel.”

Crowley stopped pacing. “Wait a minute. You saw _Gabriel?_ ”

“I did, against my will. He followed me home after my meeting with Mr. Wilkins and frightened me.” 

“What the fuck did _he_ want?!”

“He asked me to go get a drink with him and said he’d made a mistake by breaking up with me.”

Crowley’s jaw tightened and he clenched his hands, going back to pacing. “I’m going to _murder_ him.”

“There’s no need. I told him very clearly that I never want to see him again. In fact, I have witnesses. Two of the paparazzi assigned to me came to my rescue and heard the whole thing. You can ask them, if you don’t believe me.”

“You shouldn’t have _had_ to be rescued!” Crowley raged. 

“I didn’t, really. But I was glad they were there.”

Crowley made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Enough about fucking _Gabriel_. He’s not important. Tell me more about the fucking stalker.”

“Well, I don’t _know_ a great deal, but I’ll tell you what I do know.”

“This started after the interviews. Correct?”

“Yes. Although, come to think of it, Newt found a note stuck in a book a few days _before_ the interviews. I had forgotten all about it, but I suppose it could be related.”

“What did the note say?”

“‘Stay away from him’, I believe, with some epithet tacked on.”

“Great. So they know where you live and work. That’s fucking fantastic,” Crowley muttered, still walking the floor. 

“Well, yes, I assume they do. In the emails I got today, there was a photo of me opening the door to my flat. It was taken from further away than the paparazzi usually are. In fact, the paparazzi are in the foreground.” 

Crowley ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes and turning his face up to the ceiling, as if beseeching God herself. Then he turned to Aziraphale, furious. “Why the _fuck_ didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I was afraid you’d react just this way,” Aziraphale snapped back. 

“You didn’t tell me you were being fucking _stalked_ for more than a fucking _month_ because you were afraid I’d be cross with you?” he demanded. “Did it _never_ occur to you that the longer it went on, the _angrier_ I’d be?”

“Well, no,” Aziraphale admitted. 

He was back to pacing, back and forth on the other side of the coffee table. “Were you _ever_ going to tell me, or just let me find out when you got yourself fucking _killed_?!”

Aziraphale did his best to stay calm, although he was angry and upset, too. “Yes. I had intended to tell you. I promised Tracy that if it got worse, I’d tell you, and today we got the first overt threat. I promised to tell you tomorrow, on the drive up to Scotland.” 

“Why the _fuck_ would you wait?”

“I - I don’t know,” he admitted. 

Crowley scrubbed his face with his hands. “You’re so stupid. But you’re clever. How can someone as clever as you be so fucking stupid?”

“I will admit that my handling of this has not been the best, but there’s no need to resort to name calling,” Aziraphale huffed. 

Crowley didn’t respond to that. He just continued to pace, pulling at his face and hair, the very picture of anxiety and anger. Then he stopped suddenly and turned to Aziraphale. “Right. Here’s what we’re going to do. First thing: we’re not going to Scotland tomorrow.”

“But Crowley!”

“Just fucking listen to me. We’ll still go, but not until we take care of a few things.”

“A few things, like what?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going with you to the shop and you’re going to show me all the emails and messages. Then we’re going to call the police.”

“Do you really think the police need to be involved?”

“They’ve threatened your fucking _life_ , Aziraphale. Yes, I think the fucking police need to be contacted.” He went back to pacing. “The next thing we’re going to do, after the police leave, is we’re going to contact a security company to install a system at the shop.”

“My dear, I really don’t have the budget for that. I spent quite a bit on the fireproofing…”

“I’m paying for it.”

“Crowley, I can’t let you --”

Crowley just gave him a _look_. “You _can_ and you _will_.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said meekly, backing down.

“Good. The next thing after that, we’re going to change your number.”

“That’s fine,” Aziraphale agreed. “I’ll go along with all of that.”

“And you’re moving in with me.”

“No.”

“Aziraphale…”

“ _No_ , Crowley. I want to move in with you at some point, I plan on it, but I absolutely _refuse_ to be forced out of my home. I want, when I move in with you, for it to be a happy occasion. Not something that was forced upon me.”

“My flat is safer than yours. There’s security here. There’s nothing between you and this stalker but a single locked door, at your flat.”

“I don’t feel my flat is unsafe.”

Crowley cut him another look. “You can’t _possibly_ mean that. You just told me that the stalker took a photo of you at your flat! He knows where you live!”

“Still, I’m not moving in with you. Not right now. In a couple of months when this all blows over, I will. But not right now.”

Crowley gritted his teeth. “Alright. Fine. That’s fine. Then we’re going to have a security system installed at your flat, too. And I’m spending the night with you every single night. When you’re not here, I’ll stay at your flat.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale agreed, a little excited about the prospect of spending _every_ night with Crowley. “I’ll go along with that.”

“I’m also hiring a bodyguard for you, and you’re never to be alone.”

“Crowley…”

“No, angel. This is non-negotiable. You’re never to be alone, not until this blows over. At all. If I’m not with you, the bodyguard will be. In fact, I think I’ll put Shadwell on you, full time.”

“But Shadwell is _your_ bodyguard.”

“Now he’s yours.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Not in the least. I’ll do anything, spend any amount, to keep you safe. You're the most important thing in the world to me, angel, the _absolute most important thing_ , and I have to protect you. I _have_ to.”

“Alright, darling,” Aziraphale acquiesced. “If that will make you feel better.”

“I’m so pissed at you right now, Aziraphale,” he said, even though he sounded _less_ angry. 

“I know. I should have told you. I know that. But I didn't want to scare you. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away.”

“Well, it didn’t, did it?” he snapped acidly.

Aziraphale sighed. “No, it escalated. My gamble didn’t pay off.”

“We could have put a stop to this shit _weeks_ ago.”

“It was foolish of me, and I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale was surprised when Crowley came over to where he was sitting and dropped to his knees, putting his red head in Aziraphale’s lap and bracketing his thighs with his forearms, gripping his hips. 

“Angel, you don’t understand,” Crowley said into his lap, sounding anguished. “I’d _die_ if anything happened to you. If you were hurt or something worse... I wouldn’t want to go on living. It would _destroy_ me, Aziraphale. I’d never recover.”

Aziraphale put a hand on his head comfortingly. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t think it would affect you quite this way. I should have known.”

“Please, Aziraphale,” he said, finally looking up, and his eyes were red and wet. “Please let me protect you. _Please._ ”

Aziraphale felt tears prick his own eyes. “Oh, Crowley. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, Aziraphale.”

“I will, my darling. I’ll do whatever you ask, but I won’t move in yet. Soon, but not yet.”

Crowley leaned in for a kiss, and Aziraphale met him halfway. The kiss was soft and gentle, not remotely sexual, but rather a wordless exchange of apology and forgiveness. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” Crowley whispered when the kiss broke. 

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. I’d forgive you anything, anything at all. As long as you’re _safe_.”

“I am safe. I promise.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” Crowley put his forehead against Aziraphale’s, and they both closed their eyes. “Come to bed with me, please.”

Aziraphale grinned a little without opening his eyes. “You want to have makeup sex?”

“No, I just want to hold you, close as a heartbeat, where I know no one can get to you. Please, angel. Please let me hold you.”

“Alright, my darling. Anything you want.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OVER A THOUSAND KUDOS, OVER _TWO_ THOUSAND COMMENTS, AND _TWENTY THOUSAND HITS_?!?!
> 
>  _Jesus riverdancing Christ_. I can't, you guys. I'm simply blown away. I'd had high hopes for this fic but you guys have blown them out of the water. THANK YOU!!!!

_Saturday, 7 August_

The next day dawned bright and sunny, but Crowley had barely slept. He’d lay awake all night, his arms wrapped around Aziraphale, his mind churning with all the terrible things that could have happened - that might _still_ happen if the stalker wasn’t caught. He couldn’t be with Aziraphale every minute of the day, he knew, but he was determined to be with him as much as possible, and he was equally determined to get Aziraphale to move in with him. He understood the reason why Aziraphale wanted to stay in his own flat for now - at least, he tried to - but he didn’t like it one bit. He’d _wanted_ Aziraphale to move in with him for weeks, but now it felt more like a need. He _needed_ Aziraphale to move in, for his safety and Crowley’s sanity. 

When Aziraphale started to stir in the morning, an hour before the alarm, Crowley woke him with kisses. They snuggled for a little while, then made sweet, tender love that was healing for both of them. After, they showered together, got dressed, and went to the shop to accomplish all they’d decided to.

Shadwell was waiting at the shop when he arrived with Aziraphale, and looked ready for duty. He came inside to look around and offer his opinions on security systems while Crowley took Aziraphale to the back room and made him pull up the messages and emails. Seeing them in black and white was more frightening than he’d expected, and he felt fresh terror wash over him. 

They phoned the police, and Crowley used his name to get them to hurry. While they waited, they consulted with Shadwell about what type of security he thought they needed, and then looked up the top-rated company in the city. Thankfully, the place was open on Saturdays and, for a fee, was willing to come out that day. It was a fee Crowley was happy to pay. 

The police sent two plainclothes DIs to the shop, which Crowley was grateful for, given the remaining press out there. He wanted to bring as little attention to the situation as possible, at least for now. 

The male DI, Chamberlain, was interviewing Aziraphale when Tracy arrived, understandably confused about what was going on. Crowley told her everything he was comfortable with, and then the other, female DI did a quick interview with her. Aziraphale was disgruntled when they took his computer and mobile, but Crowley comforted him, promising him to buy a new computer and mobile that very day. 

The security company arrived just as the cops left, and Crowley offered to pay them an extra fifty percent if they started and completed work in less than twenty-four hours. As he’d expected it would, the money greased the wheels and they called an installation crew to begin work. Crowley was quietly pleased. 

Aziraphale insisted that Crowley leave for a little while, and Crowley finally agreed, going to the electronics store and buying Aziraphale two of the nicest, flashiest computers he could find - one for the counter and one for the back room. He delivered them himself an hour before closing, and was rewarded with a mildly chagrined look and a kiss. 

After the store closed, while the security people worked, they left Tracy to babysit the flat and Crowley took Aziraphale to the mobile phone store to buy him a brand new, top of the line phone - and change his number. Then they went back to Aziraphale’s flat and stayed there, waiting for the security people to finish their work. 

The installation crew finally wrapped up at a little before seven, and spent about forty-five minutes teaching Aziraphale how to use the new system. Once Aziraphale seemed to have it down and thought he’d be able to teach Newt and Tracy, the security company left, their pockets lined. 

It was too late to go to Scotland that night, so they ordered in and cuddled in front of the TV, behind two locked doors and a top-notch security system. Crowley finally allowed himself to believe Aziraphale was safe, and fell asleep on the couch, holding his love, at a little after ten.

~*~O~*~

_Sunday, 8 August_

Crowley seemed to relax more and more with every mile they drove towards Scotland, and Aziraphale was glad. They had the windows rolled down as they wound their way through the mountains, and as much as he loved looking at the gorgeous views, he much preferred watching Crowley’s hair blow in the wind. Aziraphale didn’t know how it was possible, but he loved Crowley more today than he ever had. Usually, in past relationships, having a row had tarnished the feelings he’d had for his partners. But that hadn’t happened with Crowley - in fact, the opposite seemed to be true. He supposed that was just a mark to how different his relationship with Crowley was on the whole, top to bottom. He reveled in the difference. 

“I love you,” he said, just because he couldn’t contain it. 

Crowley looked at him and grinned, making his heart flutter, then raised their joined hands and kissed Aziraphale’s knuckles. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“So tell me about your home here.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Just… tell me about it.”

“Well, it’s Georgian. But it’s been updated over the years. When I bought it ten years ago, I did a bit of updating, myself.”

“What made you buy it?”

“I grew up in London, and was raised by a single mother in a small flat. We weren’t _poor_ , really, Mum had a good job as a nurse, but we certainly weren’t rich. I used to love to go to the park to run and play in the open areas, to look at the trees and plants. And I daydreamed about having a big house with a lot of land. Lots of plants for me to tend and dark skies at night, so I could see the stars.”

“Why Scotland?”

Crowley shrugged. “I just like Scotland. When this property first came up for sale, I jumped on it. And although I don’t spend as much time here as I wish I did, I still love it.”

“Why don’t you spend more time here?”

“I usually spend the better part of the summer up here, when I’m not touring. This is the first summer I haven’t. But that’s alright. I have a very good reason to stay in London this summer.”

Aziraphale smiled, but couldn’t help a little twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, angel?”

“For keeping you from your home.”

“Oh, no, no, sweetheart. Please don’t be. My home is wherever you are.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I love you, too.”

Crowley grinned and turned back to the road. 

“What will we do while we’re here?”

“Well, I’d _like_ to make love to you in every room of the house, but we might have to spread that out over a couple of trips. There are thirteen bedrooms.”

“Thirteen!”

“Yes, plus the cottages.”

“Goodness,” Aziraphale said, reeling a bit. 

Crowley just grinned. “The estate is on the outskirts of a little tourist town that’s really small and quaint. I think you’ll like it there. I love it, because nobody seems to give a fuck who I am when I’m there. If I’m recognized, no one makes a fuss. It’s great.”

“That does sound ideal.”

“Yeah. And because it’s a tourist town, there are oodles of little restaurants, some of which are very nice. One of them has a patio that overlooks the sea. Maybe we could go there one night. In fact, we could probably go tonight, if you’re willing, since Nanny won’t have had time to go to the shops. Come to think of it, I need to ring her and tell her we’re on the way.”

“Nanny?”

“Nanny Ashtoreth. She’s the housekeeper, and she lives in one of the cottages on the grounds. She cooks for me when I’m staying at the house. It’s a bit Downton Abbey for my taste, but there’s no use protesting. I’ve tried to treat both of them like family, but they insist on treating _me_ like gentry. The only person they’ve ever been slightly more casual with is my mother. Nanny and Mum get along famously, but she won’t bend for me. Still, it makes her happy to pamper me, so I let her do it. She’s a fantastic cook. I think you’re going to love her food.”

“I’m sure I will, dear. Who is ‘they’? Is there someone else?”

“Brother Francis. They both live in cottages on the estate.”

“Brother Francis?”

“The groundskeeper. They came with the house. Neither of them have ever had another job, other than to care for the house and its inhabitants. So I was glad to keep them on - and give them a raise, to boot.”

“You’re too sweet, dear.”

“Oh, shut up,” Crowley groused good naturedly. Then he said wonderingly, “You know, I might put you to work on a mystery.”

“What type of mystery?”

“I’m convinced that Brother Francis and Nanny Asthoreth are shagging, but they both deny it. Do you think you could find out? I’m dying of curiosity.”

“Oh, you wretch,” Aziraphale laughed. “I’ll do no such thing.”

“Well, maybe you can just tell me if you agree with me, and _think_ they’re shagging.”

“You’re asking me to gossip?” Aziraphale gasped, pretending affont. “Well, I never.”

Crowley just chuckled. “By the way, I found out more about that gala.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It benefits UNICEF, and it’s a little less than a month from now. I signed on to headline the event. We can make arrangements to meet with the designers when we get back.”

“Oh, I have no idea what I’ll wear. Just a regular tuxedo, wouldn’t you think?”

“Angel, you can wear a fucking ball gown, if you want. Just so long as I get to go with you, that’s all I care about.” 

“Yes, well, I’m _very_ excited. It will make us more ‘official’, don’t you think?”

Crowley grinned. “If you say so. I already feel pretty official, but if that’s what will make you feel that way, then you can have it.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I do, and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley smiled and took an exit.

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale had thought he was prepared to see Crowley’s estate, but it still took his breath away when they pulled up and he saw the house.

It was enormous, the biggest house Aziraphale had ever seen that wasn’t a castle, but it wasn’t imposing. Even from the outside, it looked comfortable. He hadn’t even seen the inside yet, but he rather got the impression the interior would match. 

Crowley had rung Nanny Ashtoreth on the ride up and told her that they were coming, so the housekeeper and the groundskeeper were there to greet them when they arrived. Aziraphale felt a bit like he’d stepped into an Austen novel. 

“Welcome back, sir,” Brother Francis said with a little bow. Nanny Ashtoreth sketched a little curtsey. 

“Good to be back, even if it’s only for the week. You lot have kept the home fires burning?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Great. Nanny, Francis, I’d like you to meet Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale started to offer his hand, but the groundskeeper and housekeeper bowed and curtseyed instead. 

“Er, how do you do.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Francis, would you mind taking our bags up to the master suite?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Will you be dining at home tonight, sir? I can go to the shops, but dinner may be a little delayed.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. We’ll go into town tonight, so you don’t have to fuss over us. But we’ll be dining at home tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir.”

“C’mon, angel,” Crowley said, pulling him by the hand. “Let me show you around.”

Crowley pulled him into the entrance hall, and Aziraphale looked around in wonder. It was _beautiful_ , completely gorgeous, but still felt like a home. Crowley dragged him from room to room on the ground floor, showing him the formal sitting room, the lounge, the breakfast room, the study, the dining room, and another little lounge with three glass walls that overlooked the grounds and the small pond there. Aziraphale thought he’d very much like to sip coffee and read the paper in that sunroom in the early mornings. Maybe he would. 

“There’s a greenhouse through there,” Crowley said, pointing towards a door at the rear of the house. “That’s _my_ favorite room. But I have a feeling the room I’m about to show you will be _your_ favorite,” he said with twinkling eyes. 

“What room is that?” Aziraphale asked with a smile. 

“Now, before I show you this, I want you to promise me that you’re not going to ignore me for the whole week.”

“I could never.”

“I hope not. Are you ready?”

Aziraphale nodded eagerly. “I’m ready.”

Crowley pushed open the door with a smile and Aziraphale looked inside. It was a library, with built in bookshelves and arched ceilings. Aziraphale stepped in, looking around with wide eyes. It was the biggest private library he’d ever seen, and he guessed there must have been several thousand books. There was a fireplace with two squishy chairs in front of it and a credenza with a couple of bottles of liquor and crystal tumblers. The room had several tall windows that let in lots of natural light, and the view was stunning. One of the windows featured a seat, covered with cushions and an afghan. It was by far the most beautiful room Aziraphale had ever seen. 

“Do you like it?”

“Crowley,” he breathed. “I _love_ it.”

“I have no idea what books are in here, but I know that quite a lot of them are older than the house and came here when it was built. You may find yourself a few first editions in here.”

“Oh, _Crowley_.”

“Now remember,” he teased. “You promised not to ignore me.”

Aziraphale turned to him with a grin, draping his arms around Crowley’s shoulders. “I promise not to ignore you, but I have to admit, I’m hoping to spend a lot of time in this library.”

Crowley gave him a wicked grin. “I bet I know another room you’re going to want to spend a lot of time in.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled. “If you’re speaking of your room, you’re probably right.”

Crowley smiled and kissed him sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good. Let me show you the rest of the house, then we can go into town and you can see if there are any shops you’d like to go back to and visit later in the week. Then we can go to Renard’s and have dinner.”

“That sounds heavenly, dear.”

Crowley gave him a wicked grin. “Great. We’ll do all that, then I’ll bring you back here and we’ll get started on making love in every room.”

Aziraphale giggled. “That sounds like the perfect evening, darling.”

Crowley kissed him through a smile. “Let’s go get started on it.”

~*~O~*

Most of the shops were closed for the day by the time they got into town, but Aziraphale didn’t mind. He enjoyed walking around the small high street, holding hands with Crowley, looking in the occasional window. As it turned out, the town had a rather large antique shop and Aziraphale peered into that window like a child to see if it looked interesting. He was able to spy a decently-sized section of books in the back corner of the shop, so he asked Crowley if they could come back. Crowley agreed at once, and Aziraphale kissed him happily.

He was starving by the time they got to the restaurant, and was happy to sit down after walking all over town. Crowley requested and got a table on the patio, and it boasted a _stunning_ view. The waves were breaking on the cragged shore below them, providing pleasant white noise, and the sea breeze was refreshing and cool. The sun was just about to sink into the sea, and of all the dates they’d been on, Aziraphale thought this might be the most romantic. It felt like London was a million miles away, and Aziraphale was surprised to find that he liked that feeling. 

Crowley ordered a bottle of wine to the table and they toasted to each other and the future. Aziraphale was sure he had stars in his eyes when he took a sip of his wine, but that was okay. Crowley did, too. 

“Our anniversary is coming up,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale knew that, but played along anyway. “Is it now?”

“Yes. It’s been the best four months of my life.”

“Mine, too, darling.”

“How do you think we should celebrate?”

“Well, you’ve already brought me to Scotland, so I had just assumed we’d celebrate here. I figured that was part of the reason you wanted to come this week.”

“Maybe part of the reason,” Crowley said with a grin. “But mostly I just wanted to get away from London and all the misery there.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad you did.” He paused for a second. “Crowley?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I really am sorry for not telling you. I feel terrible that I scared you so badly.”

Crowley reached across and took his hand. “It’s alright. I was angry for a little while, but I’m over it. I can even see why you didn’t want to tell me, although I wish you had.”

“I wish I had, too.”

“Well, all I ask going forward is that you tell me when you have something like that happen. Please don’t wait again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The food arrived, and they tucked in. Aziraphale was hardly acting when he moaned around his bite of chicken - it was scrummy. 

“Fucking minx,” Crowley muttered with a smile, and Aziraphale just grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re 2/3 of the way through this story!! Time is really flying and I’m dreading this story ending. It’s been so fun and I’m immensely proud of it. There’s lots more drama and romance ~~and sex~~ yet to come in the last chapters. Don’t give up on me, please! 
> 
> I think you guys are really going to love the next chapter. At least, I hope you will. You can consider it an early Christmas gift.


	25. Chapter 25

_Thursday, 12 August_

They’d been in Scotland for four days, and Crowley rather thought they had been the best days of his life. He always enjoyed his estate in Scotland, but now, sharing it with Aziraphale, it was more special than he could articulate. 

He and Aziraphale hadn't spent _all_ their time together while they’d been there. Aziraphale had been drawn to the library, just as Crowley had expected (and hoped), and Crowley had spent part of his days in the greenhouse, digging in the dirt and chatting with Brother Francis. In the evenings, after dinner, Aziraphale would read on one end of the couch and Crowley would play his guitar at the other end until they couldn’t stand the distance and came together, putting their books and guitars aside. Crowley would lay with his head in Aziraphale’s lap and they’d talk about nothing and everything while Aziraphale played gently with his hair. Then they’d retire to the master suite and make love, and wake up the next morning to do it all over again. 

It was domestic, perfectly domestic, and it made Crowley long for this type of life with his beloved. 

Aziraphale seemed to absolutely _love_ his home, and commented frequently about how cozy it felt. He was more at home at the Scotland house than he’d ever been at Crowley’s flat, and Crowley took that as a cue. While Aziraphale read in the sunroom one morning, he’d made a couple of calls back to London. 

They’d gone into town for lunch on Wednesday, and spent the afternoon looking through the shops that had been closed on Sunday evening. The majority of their time was spent in the antique shop, where Aziraphale seemed to achieve nirvana. Crowley had just smiled and indulged him - and done a little browsing of his own while Aziraphale had fondled all the books. When they left an hour and half later, Aziraphale was carrying a satchel full of the twelve books he’d purchased. Crowley had made his own unplanned, impulse purchase, and had it stored safely (and silently) in his pocket. 

Today was their anniversary, and they’d spent it largely together, excepting a couple of hours in the afternoon that Crowley spent gardening and Aziraphale spent reading in the library. After, Crowley had showered, and they came together for dinner - a replication of their first meal together at the Ritz four months ago. It was nearly flawless, and Aziraphale resolved to give Nanny Ashtoreth a raise. Or at least a hefty bonus. 

After dinner it was still light, but the sun was starting to sink, so Crowley asked hopefully if Aziraphale would like to take a walk on the grounds with him, maybe down to the pond with a bottle of wine. Aziraphale smiled and said that sounded lovely, so Crowley sent him down to the wine cellar to pick out whatever he’d like to drink and went to gather a blanket. He also grabbed two other small items that he put into his pockets with a hopeful heart. He might not get to use them, but he’d rather have them available than not.

The pond was several hundred yards from the house, but it was a pleasant walk. Crowley carried the wine and glasses, Aziraphale carried the blanket, and they held each other’s hands all the way down. Once they were at the picturesque little pond, Crowley picked the place with the best view and spread the blanket out. They toed off their shoes and sat down, side by side, feet pointed towards the pond and the setting sun. Crowley worked open the bottle of wine, a nice vintage that he’d had for several years, and poured each of them a glass. Then he put the bottle to the side and raised his glass. 

“I’d like to propose a toast.”

Aziraphale smiled, raising his own glass. “To what, darling?”

“To us, on our anniversary. Four months down, six thousand to go.”

“Hear, hear,” Aziraphale said with a giggle. Then they clinked glasses and took a sip. 

“Four months,” Aziraphale said, sounding like he was marveling. 

“Four months,” Crowley agreed. “A lot has happened.”

“It surely has. So much has changed and it feels like we’ve been together for years instead of months. But at the same time, it feels as if only yesterday I was getting into that limo to take me to the Ritz, with no idea how my life would change.”

“For the better, I hope?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Of course, for the better, darling. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I had no idea, either. To be honest, I was dreading the evening.”

“You were?”

“Yes. I begged Anathema to let me out of it. She had to talk me into going. But I’m so, so glad she did. You walked in the door and everything changed in that instant.”

“Oh, surely not in that _instant_.”

“Pretty damn close to ‘in that instant’. I was smitten with you immediately, and I knew you were something special the moment you asked to pay for your meal. But if I have to be honest, I’d say it took until you told me you didn’t know who I was for me to fall irrevocably in love with you.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You’re so silly, darling.”

Crowley grinned at him. “I’m only exaggerating a bit. I’d expected to meet some obsessed fan who wanted to wear my skin, but I found the love of my life, instead.”

“You weren’t what I was expecting, either.”

“I didn’t know you were expecting _anything_.”

“Well, I knew I was meeting a celebrity, but I didn’t know who you were. I expected you to be some stuck up and self absorbed actor or something.”

“A prick,” Crowley supplied with a grin. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed. “But you were so different. I can’t put my finger on how I knew, I just _knew_ you were different. Still, if you had told me on that night that I’d just met the love of my life, I’d have laughed at you.”

“I’d have laughed, too,” Crowley said. “But I wasn’t kidding the other night. These have been the best four months of my life, and I can’t wait for forever.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I can’t wait, either.”

Crowley flashed a smile. “Good. Now, I have a gift for you. Two gifts, actually.”

His face fell. “Oh, Crowley. You shouldn’t have. I don’t have a thing for you.”

“Angel, I have pretty much everything I could ever want, materially. All I _really_ want is for you just to be with me. That’s the greatest gift of all.”

“But, darling…”

Crowley kissed him silent. “Are you going to let me give you my gifts or not?”

“Yes, of course. But I do hope that if you ever come across something you want, you’ll tell me instead of buying it for yourself. I want to shower you with gifts, too.”

“I think I can agree to that. Now, can I give you your first gift?”

“Yes. I’ll be quiet now.”

“You don’t have to be quiet, sweetheart. I love hearing you. But I’m anxious to tell you about these things.”

“Well, I’m all ears.”

Crowley took a breath to steady his nerves, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them and began to speak. 

“I know part of the reason that you haven’t wanted to move in with me is because you don’t like my flat.”

“Crowley, I never said...”

“You didn’t have to. I knew you weren’t wild about it that first night you came over, and you’ve always been more relaxed at your flat than mine. But you’re also completely relaxed _here_ , and I can only assume it’s because it’s cozier, as you said. More like a home. So my gift to you… I called yesterday and hired an interior designer in London. She’s going to renovate and remodel my flat, with your input. We have our first meeting with her next Tuesday.”

“Darling, I couldn’t possibly let you do that…”

“Why not?”

“It’s your home!”

“Yes, it is, and I want it to be _your_ home, too.”

“But Crowley…”

Crowley rushed ahead. “I’m not doing this so you’ll move in with me right away. You want to keep your flat for a while and I respect that. But I _am_ hoping, selfishly, that this will help push you towards a place where you _want_ to move in. That’s not even touching on the safety stuff. Please.”

Aziraphale had tears in his eyes. “You’re so ridiculous sometimes.”

“I know I am. But will you please let me do this? Will you let me make my home ready for you? For us?”

“Yes, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a bright smile. “I will. And since you’ve given me a gift, I’ve thought of a gift I can give you: I’ll put my flat on the market when the renovations are complete and move in when I sell it.”

Crowley’s face shone with joy. “Yeah?”

“I will. It’s the least I can do.”

He grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hard, lingering a minute, afraid he may burst with joy. “Thank you, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear. Now, don’t expect me to be the _only_ one giving input at this meeting,” he warned. “If it’s going to be a home for both of us, I want _both_ of us to have a say in how it’s decorated.”

“All I care about is seeing you happy.”

“Well, I want you to be happy, too. Promise me you’ll give input,” he said sternly. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll give input. But I’ve already told her that you’re running the show, and I expect her to line the walls with bookshelves.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You know me too well.”

Crowley kissed him again. “You make me so happy. Do you know that?”

“Oh, my love, you make me deliriously happy.”

He kissed him one more time, blissful and in love, but didn’t let himself get carried away. He had one more gift to go - if he could work up the courage. 

Crowley’s heart was pounding with nerves, his second gift burning a hole in his pocket. But he poured each of them another glass of wine and they drank and chatted about what they’d each like to do with the flat as the sun sank behind the trees. 

It was almost dark when they had nearly finished their wine, and Crowley turned to Aziraphale, his heart in his throat. “Are you ready for your second gift?”

“Yes, I think so,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “What is it?”

Crowley drained his wine, hoping the liquid would give him courage, then gently took Aziraphale’s empty glass and put both of them aside, out of the way. With his heart pounding, afraid to look at Aziraphale, he reached into his right pocket and pulled out a small box. 

“Darling?” Aziraphale asked, sounding nervous all of the sudden. “What is that?”

Crowley opened the box and presented it to him. “It’s a claddagh. Do you know what a claddagh represents?”

“I do, but I’d like you to tell me,” Aziraphale requested, his eyes wide. 

Crowley swallowed. “Claddaghs have three parts: hands, a heart, and a crown. The heart represents love, the hands represent friendship, and the crown represents loyalty. And that’s what I’m offering you, or rather pledging to you - my love, my friendship, and my loyalty. Forever.”

“Crowley, what are you saying? What does this ring _mean_?”

“I’m going to let you decide what it means, let you place whatever significance on it you want it to have. But to me, at the very least, it’s a promise from me to be your friend, to be loyal to you, and to love you for the rest of my life. But…” He paused and swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t be upset if you were to take it as an engagement ring, a proposal of marriage.”

“Is that what you _want_ it to mean?”

“I want you to take as much meaning from it as you’re comfortable with. I mean it wholeheartedly. I love you, and the ring is a promise to continue to love you for the rest of your life, whether or not we agree to get married right now. That’s entirely up to you.”

Aziraphale had tears on his cheeks, and Crowley had no idea whether that was a good thing or not. His heart had stopped beating while he waited for Aziraphale to say something. He felt like he was going to pass out, but willed himself to stay in the moment, still holding the ring in offer to Aziraphale. 

His voice was trembling and not at all as confident as he was trying to sound when he said, “So what do you think, angel?”

“I - I think that if you want this to be an engagement ring, you have something you need to ask me.”

Crowley’s heart restarted and he smiled. He rearranged himself so he was in an approximation of being on one knee, and he presented the ring again. “Aziraphale Zaccheus Fell, I’m in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you please, _please_ do me the honor of marrying me? Of being my husband?”

Aziraphale nodded, his face breaking into a smile. “Yes. Oh, yes, Crowley, I’ll marry you.”

Crowley laughed, a sound of pure joy, and grabbed Aziraphale by the face and kissed him ebuillantly. He didn’t break the kiss for a long time, and when he did, he sprinkled kisses all over Aziraphale’s face like stars. 

“Thank you, angel. Thank you so much. I love you, and I’m going to make you so happy, I swear. _Thank you_...”

Aziraphale laughed. “Stop thanking me and put it on me!”

Crowley kissed him one more time, then pulled back, reaching for his left hand and sliding the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly, and he was delighted. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale cooed, looking at it. “It’s beautiful.”

“ _You’re_ beautiful,” Crowley replied. “And I love you so much.”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “I love you, too, darling. But I need you to take me back into town tomorrow.”

“What for?”

“We need to get you your own ring.”

Crowley grinned. “You want me to wear a ring?”

“I want you to wear _my_ ring. Come to think of it, you could wear _this_ ring,” he said, indicating his little finger. “We could get it sized, if you want.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It was my father’s.”

“Then no. I won’t take an heirloom.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to your memory of your father, angel. We can buy me a new ring.”

“You mean you’re going to wear my ring?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart. I’m dying to.”

Aziraphale kissed him excitedly, through a smile, and Crowley kissed him back through his own smile.

“I love you, Crowley. And we’re going to be married!”

“We are, indeed. I can’t wait.”

“I can’t either. Have you ever been engaged?”

“No, never. I’ve never even thought about it. But I’ve been thinking about it with _you_ almost from the very beginning.”

Aziraphale giggled. “I’ve never been engaged, either. I don’t know how to be someone’s fiancé.”

“You’re doing fine, so far. How am I doing?”

“Oh, very well.”

Crowley grinned. “I think we’ll be able to muddle through - until we’re husbands.”

“Husbands,” Aziraphale said, his voice rapturous, and Crowley melted. The sun had disappeared, leaving only a golden red glow behind the trees and an inky black sky, but he could see perfectly well in the moonlight, and couldn't take his eyes off his love. Aziraphale was absolutely the most beautiful creature Crowley had ever seen, and he fucking _glowed_.

“Will you make love to me?” he asked, not entirely impulsively.

Aziraphale smiled. “I’d love to. Let’s get cleared up.”

“No, I meant here. Now.”

He looked surprised for just a second, and Crowley suspected he was blushing. “My love, we’re _outside_.”

“I know. I want to make love under the night sky. It seems romantic, don’t you think?”

“Someone might see…”

Sensing his advantage, Crowley leaned over and started pressing kisses to Aziraphale’s neck. “No one will see,” he said between little kisses and nips. “Nanny and Francis’ cottages are on the other side of the property, and we’re in the middle of two hundred acres. There’s no one around.” He mouthed the skin over Aziraphale’s pulse and reached out to play with his buttons. “We’re all alone, I promise you. Will you?”

Aziraphale’s voice was shaky when he answered. “We don’t have any lubricant.”

Crowley grinned against his neck and reached into his pocket, pulling out the little packet of lube he’d put in there before he came out. He showed Aziraphale with a grin. “Gotcha covered, angel.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed, and Crowley could feel his breathing speed up. “You really are quite tempting, do you know that? You’re temptation incarnate.”

Crowley gave a little chuckle. “Only for you, sweetheart. Only for you. My fiancé.”

“My fiancé,” Aziraphale repeated, leaning his head to the side to give Crowley more room to kiss. “How do you want me?”

“I want you any way you’ll let me have you,” Crowley said, sucking a mark into his neck. 

“Well, then, if we’re to make love, I think we’d better get rid of these clothes.”

“Yes, sir,” Crowley said. “Whatever you want.” Then he captured his mouth in a messy kiss and leaned Aziraphale back until they were lying side by side on the blanket. The novelty of being able to kiss each other this way never grew old, not to Crowley, and he was sure Aziraphale felt the same. Being able to kiss, to touch, to _love_ was such an unspeakable privilege, and Crowley was careful not to take it for granted. But now that privilege would be his for the rest of his life. He couldn’t believe it. 

He rolled so he was facing Aziraphale, letting his hand explore his beloved’s body a bit. Aziraphale’s waistcoat and shirt kept him from touching all he wanted, but Crowley slyly slipped his hand between the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt to get to his skin. 

They kissed for a long while, touching and exploring each other, rolling around on the blanket. Their hands roamed aimlessly and they lazily ground their hips together, creating friction for their cocks, displacing and unbuttoning clothes slowly as they went. The more they touched and caressed, the more Crowley _wanted_. Aziraphale was in no hurry, though: he seemed perfectly content to take his time. So Crowley decided to step up the seduction. 

He rolled Aziraphale onto his back, straddling his hips, and took a moment just to look down at his beloved. The moonlight illuminated him softly and the stars reflected in his smiling eyes, and Crowley felt his heart clench almost painfully with love for this man. He leaned forward to capture Aziraphale’s mouth in a slow kiss, his hands working the remaining buttons of his shirt and waistcoat, and he kissed his way down Aziraphale’s neck, towards the skin he’d just exposed.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured against Aziraphale’s skin. “So fucking perfect in every way. I love you so much.”

“Crowley…”

Aziraphale gasped when Crowley sucked a mark onto his collarbone. 

“Yes, angel?” he asked, soothing the mark he’d just left with his tongue. 

“I want you.”

Crowley trailed kisses lower, across his chest. “You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he promised. “I’m all yours. And now I will be forever.” _Forever_.

Aziraphale’s hands came up to grip Crowley’s shoulders, squeezing them, but it didn't slow him down at all. He finally finished unbuttoning Aziraphale’s shirt and pushed it off, exposing his vest, and Crowley grabbed great handfuls of the vest to pull it off, too. Once it was free and his chest was bared, Crowley didn’t hesitate to bathe his chest in kisses, licks and nips, cherishing the taste of his beloved’s skin. He wanted _more_ of that taste, and knew how to get it. He circled Aziraphale’s navel with his tongue playfully, then dragged his tongue down the little trail of hair from his navel into his trousers until his mouth met twill - and the hard cock encased within. Feeling wicked, he mouthed Aziraphale’s cock through his trousers, creating a huge wet spot, and earning a groan for his efforts. 

“Tease,” Aziraphale accused breathlessly, and Crowley couldn’t help but grin wickedly up at him. 

“You want more?”

“You know I do.”

“You can have anything you want, angel,” Crowley whispered. “Anything at all.”

He set to work on Aziraphale’s button and zip as quickly as he could, pressing hot kisses to his lower abdomen until he got them loose. Aziraphale lifted his hips accommodatingly when Crowley pushed his pants and trousers down to his thighs, letting his cock bob free. 

Crowley just looked for a moment, taking in the beauty of it, how long and thick and hard it was. Truly, the most perfect cock ever made. 

He wrapped his hand around it lightly, gently, and began to pump. Aziraphale groaned and lay his head back on the blanket, his chin towards the sky, and something glinted in the moonlight - a small drip of moisture at the head of his cock. Crowley couldn’t resist darting his tongue out to taste. Aziraphale groaned again, and Crowley closed his eyes, savoring. 

“Darling, _please_...”

“Whatever you want,” he breathed, then opened his mouth and took Aziraphale’s cock inside. He swirled his tongue around the head, getting more of that taste, then slid his mouth downward, taking Aziraphale deeper. Aziraphale shouted and clutched at his head, and Crowley hummed approval around Aziraphale’s cock, vibrating him, relishing the moan Aziraphale gave. 

“God, Crowley… yes… your mouth feels so good…”

Crowley started bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks on every upward stroke, sucking him greedily. Aziraphale’s hands tightened in his hair, and Crowley sucked harder. He used his hand to pump the lower part in rhythm. 

“Crowley, my darling, so good, love you so much…”

The hand that wasn’t working in tandem with his mouth, Crowley brought up to play with Aziraphale’s balls. He fondled them with the firm pressure he knew his love liked and used Aziraphale’s sounds to guide him. 

“Ah! Ah! Crowley! Yes!”

Crowley took him deeper, letting Aziraphale’s cockhead go to the back of his throat and bobbing at that new depth. Aziraphale’s hands tightened to almost painful levels and he made animalistic sounds of pleasure. His hips thrust up into Crowley’s mouth helplessly and Crowley welcomed it, readying himself for the heavenly taste of Aziraphale’s come. His angel was close, he could tell, and he was excited. 

“Wait! Wait!” Aziraphale cried out, pulling Crowley’s hair gently to make him stop. 

Crowley did at once, looking up at Aziraphale quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“I was about to come.”

He gave him a naughty grin. “That was the point, angel.”

Aziraphale gripped him by the arm and pulled him up beside him, meeting Crowley’s mouth in a messy kiss. “I want to come with you inside me,” he whispered. 

Crowley smiled against his mouth. “I told you, my sweetheart, you can have whatever you like.”

He captured his mouth again, their kiss needy and hard, and Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s cock, pumping and stroking it through the denim, making Crowley whimper. 

“Get naked, my darling,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley started tearing at his remaining clothes. He was pleased to see that Aziraphale was making himself naked, as well. 

When they were both nude, they came together again, and at once, Crowley’s hand was wrapped around Aziraphale’s cock, stroking him as they kissed. Crowley could feel his own sense of urgency rising, and rolled Aziraphale onto his back so he was hovering over him, stroking him in rhythm with Aziraphale’s hand on his own cock. Aziraphale whimpered when he let go of his cock, and Crowley was as quick as he could possibly be tearing open the lubricant and getting some on his fingers. He carefully slid one finger, then two into Aziraphale’s hole, catching Aziraphale’s groan in his mouth. He fucked his love on them, seeking out his prostate, and Aziraphale whimpered in pleasure. 

“Please, please, my darling. Please fuck me.”

“Yes, Aziraphale, anything for you.”

Crowley lowered himself, putting himself between Aziraphale’s legs, still fucking him with his fingers slowly, their mouths still locked together. Aziraphale whimpered when he felt Crowley withdraw his fingers, then made a little sound of pleasure when he felt the blunt head of Crowley’s cock at his entrance. The kiss broke but their faces remained close, their breaths intermingling in the small space between them. 

“Are you ready?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m ready.”

Crowley started to push inside, gently, carefully, and Aziraphale let out a long, sustained moan of pleasure. He clung to Crowley, his fingernails digging into his lover’s back, and spread his legs wider as Crowley sank deeper. Aziraphale was so tight, so hot, and every inch felt like a miracle until finally, Crowley could go no further. It was taking all his willpower not to fuck Aziraphale like a madman, but he managed to refrain.

“Are you alright?” Crowley whispered. 

“Yes, my love. More, please.”

Crowley withdrew slowly, until just the head was buried inside Aziraphale, then slid back in. 

“Again. More,” Aziraphale demanded. 

Crowley obliged, sliding himself in and out of Aziraphale’s body slowly, fucking him gently. It felt good, it felt so _fucking_ good, Crowley almost felt like crying.

“You’re so good, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed. “You’re so good, so wonderful… your cock feels like heaven filling me and I love it. I love _you_.”

“I love you, too,” Crowley replied, his voice strained. “I love you so much, angel, just so much…”

Aziraphale opened his eyes, looking up at Crowley. “Give me more, my love. Fuck me harder.”

Crowley sped up a little, making Aziraphale clutch him tighter, groaning. “Yes, Crowley. More. More. I love you. More.”

He did as requested, fucking Aziraphale harder, every stroke of his cock making Aziraphale grunt in pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer, ever closer to the precipice. 

“Crowley, Crowley, I love you so much…”

“I love you, too, angel,” Crowley panted, thrusting harder. “Love you so much… you feel so good… _fuck!_ ”

“Let go, Crowley. Let go and come for me. Fill my arse with it… please… I’m so close…”

Crowley put on a final burst of speed, making Aziraphale cry out and clutch him for dear life, his orgasm barrelling towards him now. 

“Angel… angel… come for me… _fuck!_ Come now!”

Aziraphale obeyed, his cock erupting between their bodies, covering his chest and belly with come. He screamed something that could have been Crowley’s name, but Crowley wasn’t sure and it didn't matter. He was coming harder than he’d ever come before, and every nerve in his body pulsed white hot with ecstasy as his cock emptied. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, locked together, both gasping for breath, inhaling each other’s exhalations. Finally, Aziraphale opened his eyes to look up at Crowley at the same time Crowley blinked his eyes open, too. They were both still breathing heavily, but smiled. 

Aziraphale pulled Crowley down into a kiss. “I love you,” he declared in a breathy voice. “I just love you so much.”

“I love you, too, angel. Thank you for making love to me under the stars.”

Aziraphale smiled tiredly. “Trust me, darling, that was my pleasure. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll fuck you under the stars anytime you want. Just say the word.”

“Maybe we should make that an anniversary tradition.”

“Fuck yes. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Crowley. So much. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait either, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's engagement ring (except in gold)  
> 


	26. Chapter 26

_16 August, 2021_

Aziraphale slept late on Monday morning, cuddled in Crowley’s arms, and had to hurry through getting ready for work. His goodbye kiss to Crowley was meant to be rushed and apologetic, but Crowley was having no part of that and insisted on pulling Aziraphale close and giving him a proper, lingering kiss. Aziraphale allowed it - _welcomed_ it, even though he was dreadfully late - and left Crowley in his flat to go downstairs to open the shop, carrying his satchel of books from the antique shop in Scotland. When he got downstairs, Shadwell was waiting on the pavement. Aziraphale apologized for being late, but Shadwell was stalwart. 

It took him a couple of tries to open the door with the new security system, but with a little help from Shadwell, he got in eventually. Then he had a debate with his new bodyguard about where Shadwell would stay through the day, but finally they came to a compromise. Shadwell would station himself beside the door to monitor people who came in and out, but Aziraphale insisted that he be comfortable. Shadwell eventually backed down, and Aziraphale dragged a chintz armchair out for Shadwell to sit in and offered to let him read any book in the shop. 

Tracy and Newt came in a little later, and Aziraphale was glad to see them. He sent them both to get punched in and waited until they came back to the counter, so they could all talk. 

“So!” he said with a bright smile. “How was your holiday? What did you do?”

“I went to Dorking to stay with my mother,” said Newt.

“Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah, for the most part. She put me to work. I hardly sat down for the whole week.”

“What did she have you do?”

“Clean the gutters, trim the hedge, cut the grass. Mostly outdoor chores. I ended up with a sunburn, and she finally let me stay inside on Thursday and Friday. But she put me to work there washing windows.” 

Aziraphale tutted sympathetically. “I hope it wasn’t _all_ hard work?”

“No, it wasn’t so bad, I guess. She cooked for me every night, and that was nice. She claims I don’t eat enough.”

“Well, that’s a mother for you,” Tracy said with a smile. 

“How about you, Tracy? How was your week?”

“Oh, it was very nice. I watched a lot of telly - got caught up with my stories, you know. I also did a fair few readings, which was nice.” 

“Anything interesting?”

“Not really. The spirits were quiet, for some reason. But it was a fine week.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“How was _your_ week?” Tracy asked leadingly. “Did you enjoy playing Lord of the Manor?”

He didn’t rise to the teasing. “It was _wonderful_. We truly had the best time.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, we stayed home, mostly, although there was a little seaside town nearby that we visited a couple of times.” 

“What’s his home like?”

Aziraphale grinned. “It’s _amazing_. Almost like a castle. And it had a library with _tons_ of books, quite a lot of them very old.”

“Did you find anything interesting?”

“I found a few things, but left them there. For now. I did bring back a satchel full of interesting books I found in the antique shop there. They’re in the back room, waiting for me. I’m _terribly_ excited to dive into them - and to the books I purchased from Wilkins.”

Tracy was looking down, her brows furrowed. “Aziraphale?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you wearing a ring on your left hand?”

Aziraphale looked at the ring, almost surprised to see it there, and smiled. “Well, there’s a good reason for that.”

She swatted his arm. “You got _married_?”

“No, no. We didn’t get married. But we did _agree_ to get married.”

Tracy made a loud, happy sound and pulled him into her arms. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he said, hugging her back. 

When she released him, Newt offered his hand. “Congratulations, boss.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“So tell me all about it.”

Aziraphale did, telling them about their anniversary and going out to watch the sun set. He told them about how Crowley had been so nervous, and how he’d presented the ring and told Aziraphale what a Claddagh was. 

“I asked him what it _really_ meant, and he said I could place whatever significance I wanted on it, but that he’d be happy if I considered it an engagement ring. It only took me a second to decide that I wanted it to _be_ an engagement ring, so I had him ask me. And I happily said yes.”

Tracy’s face was shining. “Oh, Aziraphale. I’m so happy for you. When are you getting married?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, but I imagine it will be at least a few months. He’s remodeling his flat so I can move in, and I doubt we’ll do anything before that’s complete.” 

“You’re moving in with him?”

“Yes, after he finishes the remodel and I sell the flat. By the way, would either of you be interested in the flat? I’d like to sell it to someone I know.”

“I might be,” Newt said. 

“Oh, that would be a tremendous relief. I do hope you’ll buy it.”

“So what happens next?” Tracy asked. 

“How do you mean?”

“In your relationship with Crowley.”

“Oh. Well, we are going today to pick out an engagement ring for him, since the jeweler in Scotland was closed and we couldn’t buy one there. Then, tomorrow, we’re going to a meeting with the interior designer, Pepper Moonchild.”

“When do you foresee yourself moving in?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’ll probably be a couple of months, at the earliest. But we’re already living together, really. We’re just maintaining two residences.”

“Well, I’m over the moon excited for you.”

“Thank you, dear. But may I ask you a favor? Both of you?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t mention that we’ve become engaged, please. We wanted to tell certain people privately before it becomes public knowledge.” 

“Of course not, dear. Your secret is safe with us.”

“Thank you.”

Tracy’s face fell a bit. “Have you gotten anymore….”

“Anymore what?”

“Anymore messages or calls or whatnot?”

“Oh. No, not that I’m aware of. I suppose only time will tell.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“I truly hope that’s all in the past,” Newt said. 

“I do too, dear. Are we ready to start with the online company?”

“Yes, actually. I spoke with them over the last week, and they’ll be coming tomorrow to begin photographing and listing.”

“Oh, very good.”

The bells over the door jingled and he looked up to see Shadwell shooting to his feet and Crowley striding in. Crowley gave Shadwell an ‘as you were’ gesture, then turned his lopsided smile to Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat, just as it always did when he saw his fiancé, and he went around the counter to wrap him in a hug and kiss him in greeting. 

“Hiya, angel,” Crowley said, smiling from a few inches away. 

Aziraphale smiled in return. “Hello yourself, darling.”

Tracy made a happy sound. “Oh, isn’t it romantic, Newt?”

Crowley seemed to notice Newt and Tracy, releasing the embrace, but grabbing Aziraphale’s hand. “Hi, Newt, Tracy. How was your week?”

“Not as wonderful as yours, I take it. Congratulations, by the way.”

Aziraphale beamed and Crowley did, too. “Thank you. I’m ridiculously happy.”

“Newt, Tracy, we have some _business_ to attend to today…” Crowley squeezed his hand and smiled at him. “So I’m going to be gone a bit longer than the usual. You have my new number, should you need me, correct?”

“Yep. We’ve got it.”

“Excellent. Don’t hesitate to use it.”

“We’ll be fine. Take all the time you need.”

“I won’t be gone more than two hours.”

Crowley released his hand and turned to offer his elbow. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“I’m ready, darling,” he said, slipping his hand into Crowley’s arm.

~*~O~*~

Thankfully, the paparazzi attention had dwindled to nearly nothing, and they were left with just a couple of photographers. The remaining photographers had gotten used to Aziraphale and Crowley going to lunch at this time most every day, so they declined to follow, pretending they didn’t see them and leaving them virtually unencumbered to go shopping and eat, with only Shadwell in tow. They ducked into a fine jeweler a couple of streets away that Aziraphale knew of, and Shadwell stayed outside.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” the clerk said, then his eyes widened. “Good lord, you’re --”

“Yes, I am,” Crowley said, surprising Aziraphale. “And I’m willing to pay you a thousand pounds to keep this visit between us. What do you say?”

“Yes, of course,” the clerk said. “Anything you want, Mr. Crowley.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said with a smile. 

“So what can I help you with?”

“We’re here to shop for an engagement ring,” Aziraphale said, feeling bubbly.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Well, we have a very nice selection of men’s rings…”

The salesman, named James, spent the next little while showing them an assortment of rings. Aziraphale spotted what he thought would be the perfect ring almost immediately, but didn’t say anything. He rather wanted Crowley to pick out his own ring. He was pleased, though, when Crowley picked the ring Aziraphale had liked - a black band with red engraved in the metal. 

“Do you like it, dear?” 

“I do. I love it.”

“Good.” Aziraphale turned to James. “We’ll take it. Please box it up?”

Crowley pouted a little as he pulled the ring off and handed it to James. “You won’t let me wear it out?”

“Absolutely not. You got to ask me, and I’m going to ask you.”

“Well, go on. Ask me.”

“Not in the middle of a jewelry store, darling. I’m going to construct a moment, like you did for me.”

Crowley grinned. “You know what I’m going to say. You don’t _have_ to do this.”

“You’d take away my chance to propose to the love of my life?” Aziraphale said, his bottom lip poking out just a little in a hint of a pout.

“Gah,” Crowley said, frustratedly, then kissed him. “You know I can’t say no to you. Alright, fine. Create your moment. Just do it soon.”

“We’ll do it fairly soon,” Aziraphale said, then accepted the ring in its box and a small bag. They debated lightly about who would pay, then settled on Aziraphale paying for the ring and Crowley paying the ‘hush money’. 

When they left the shop a few minutes later, they were both walking on sunshine and left a slightly more wealthy James behind.

~*~O~*~

“So I was thinking about your flat,” Aziraphale said after the first bite of sushi. 

“Our flat,” Crowley corrected with a smile. 

Aziraphale smiled in return. “Yes, our flat, soon.”

“Well, what do you think about it?”

“I think that it may not need a complete remodel. Just some brightening and softening. There are things I’d actually like to keep. Your granite countertops, for example.”

“Even though they’re dark?”

“Yes, they’d look nice with warm wood cabinets, or perhaps white.”

“That’s fine with me. You can have anything you want. The only things I’d really like to keep the same are the studio and maybe the plant room.”

“Oh, I’d never dream of changing those rooms. Wouldn’t even think of it.”

“Well, other than that, I don’t have a real preference about what you do.” 

“What _we_ do,” it was Aziraphale’s turn to correct. “This is _our_ project, remember?”

“I do. Why don’t we just give her photos of the house in Scotland and tell her to do that, but with more bookshelves?”

“Would you even _like_ that?”

“Sure I would. I like the Scotland house just fine.” He reached across and put his hand over Aziraphale’s. “I’m serious, Aziraphale. I don’t give a fuck what it looks like. I just want you in it.”

“I’ll be in it, I promise. Soon.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

Crowley smiled, squeezed his hand, and went back to his sushi. 

They were quiet for a little while until Crowley asked, “How are you getting on with Shadwell?”

“Oh, very well, so far. He’s quite quiet. I hardly know he’s there.”

“Good. That’s his purpose.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled and he leaned forward. “Do you know, I think I’ve seen him casting _looks_ at Tracy? And I’ve seen Tracy looking at him, too.”

Crowley scowled a little. “I don’t think I like hearing that. It’s unprofessional. That’s not what he’s there for.”

“Oh, lighten up, darling. If they’re both single, what’s the harm?”

“It could mean harm to _you_.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Please don’t say anything to him. It’s terribly entertaining to watch.”

Crowley sighed. “Fine. Alright. I won’t say anything - for now. As long as you’re safe.”

“I am, I promise.”

“Has anybody bothered you?”

“No, all is quiet. I haven’t gotten a call or message, but I haven’t checked the email yet.”

“When will you check?”

“I can look when we get back to the shop.”

“Okay.”

“Really, I think you frightened them off.”

“I don’t know. I hope so, but we’re going to take precautions until I know for sure the bastard is caught.” 

“Have you talked to the police?”

“I haven’t heard anything from them in a couple of days. Apparently, the person was doing something that makes their IP address hard to track. They’re still working at it.”

“Well, hopefully they’ll catch the person soon and our lives will go back to normal.”

“Yes, I hope so, too. Although I’d prefer to keep spending every night with you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled. “I’d prefer that, too.” Then he took a bite of his food. “I imagine the press attention will pick back up again after we announce our engagement.” 

“Yeah, it probably will for a while. But I don’t think it’ll be as intense or last as long. I could be wrong, but that’s my hunch. Then it’ll get intense again around the wedding, whenever that is. Anathema and Mary will know more.” 

“When do you plan to tell them?”

Crowley shrugged. “Soon, I guess. I’m not ready for the press attention just yet. I don't want to put you through that again.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad. Not my favorite thing, but not as awful as I thought it would be.”

“Really?” Crowley said. 

“Of course. And it was worth it all to be with you.”

“I love you, too,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale just smiled. 

“Except for the appointment with the designer tomorrow, I’m going to be quite busy with work for the next few days. I might have to forego our lunches.”

“Oh? What’s going on?”

“We’re having a company come out to photograph the rare books and list them for sale on our new website.”

Crowley’s eyebrows appeared from behind his glasses. “You’re going to sell your books?”

“Well, not all of them. And we’ll be selling regular books, too. It was Tracy’s idea to re-energize business.” 

“I think it’s a good idea. I take it you need to be on hand to supervise the photographing of your books?”

“Yes. I need to be there to make sure they’re treated with the appropriate care. To make sure they’re _appreciated_.”

Crowley chuckled. “Of course, I shouldn’t have expected any different. Say, angel… speaking of work…”

“Yes, dear?”

“Have you ever considered hiring more help for the shop?”

“Oh. Well, I have sometimes, but the three of us seem to be able to handle things just fine. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking that if you had an extra set of hands or two, maybe we could take off for holidays together more often. Maybe even once a month or so. I’d love to take you all kinds of places. Everywhere. I want to show you the world, sweetheart. Everything there is to see and experience, I want us to experience it together.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I’d like that, too. I’ll talk to Newt and Tracy about it, to see what they think.”

“I’m not trying to run your shop or anything,” Crowley hastened to say. “I just thought… I’d like you to have the freedom to travel with me sometimes.”

“I’m not opposed to hiring more help, but it would take a while before I’d be able to go anywhere. I’d have to get them trained.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. I understand. I’m not trying to get you to give up your job. I know you love it. And you don’t have to do what I suggest. Just… maybe think about it?”

“I will, darling. I’ll give it serious thought. Maybe, if you’re willing to wait, I could hire someone after I sell the flat and we get moved in together. It seems like there are lots of balls in the air right now.”

“Yeah, I understand. You’re right. Take your time… it was just a thought.”

“It was a _lovely_ thought, and I’m almost certain to do it. I just would like to wait a little while.” 

“I’ve got nothing but time, angel.”

“Good. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“I’d be willing to wait six thousand years for you. You know that.”

“I do, and I love you for it.” He took another bite of his sushi. “Have you told anyone we’re engaged?”

“Not yet. I thought maybe, if you were willing, we could have my mother for dinner this weekend and tell her in person.”

“I’d like that. Do you think she’ll be pleased?”

“I do. I think she’s going to be over the moon.”

“What about the band?”

Crowley shrugged. “I’ll send out a group text in a few days. Nothing formal.”

“How do you think _they’re_ going to react?”

He grinned. “They’re going to be thrilled. They adore you, you know that. Do you have anyone you need to tell?”

“Well, I already told Tracy and Newt, as you know, and they were very excited. I suppose I should probably tell Uriel, though. She’d be cross if she got the news from the paper.”

“What do you think she’ll say?”

“I’d hope she’d be happy for us, but I’m not that fussed if she’s not. She's not an important player in my life.”

“Would you like me to be with you when you call her? For moral support?”

Aziraphale smiled gently. “I’d like you to be with me all the time, darling.” 

“I will be,” he promised. 

Aziraphale wanted to kiss him right then, but limited himself to a soft smile, then went back to his sushi. 

When he put his next bite in his mouth, he looked up to see Crowley looking at his hand. 

“I sure do love seeing a ring on your finger, angel,” he said, his smile soft. 

Aziraphale swallowed and smiled. “I’m very much enjoying _wearing_ your ring.”

Crowley grinned. “So can I have _my_ ring yet?”

“My, but you’re persistent,” Aziraphale teased. 

“I am, very much. So can I?”

“Not yet, darling. I’d still like to construct the perfect moment. On a totally unrelated note, how would you feel about going to the Ritz for dinner one night this week?”

“I think I could be persuaded,” Crowley replied, grinning. 

“Oh, very good. Would you be willing to call and book us into the private dining room? I figured you’d have an easier time getting in than I would.”

“I’d be happy to, angel. Any particular night?”

“Whenever you can get us in will be fine. Just please make sure to leave time for me to get off of work. I’ll give you my credit card to pay the deposit.”

“You don’t have to do that, angel. I’ll be happy to --”

“Ah, ah, ah! You got to propose your way, now let me propose mine.”

Crowley backed down with a smile. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's ring:


	27. Chapter 27

_Tuesday, 17 August_

Crowley was nervous, which was absurd because he _knew_ what was going to happen and he _knew_ what he would say. Aziraphale, that adorable, ridiculous creature, was going to propose and Crowley was, of course, going to say yes. Then they’d finally be properly, fully engaged, and could tell anyone and everyone. It was just a step they were taking tonight, really. A silly, unnecessary step - one that Crowley was eager to take. But he was still nervous. 

It seemed Aziraphale was anxious, too. He’d been more prone to chatter tonight than usual, but Crowley didn’t mind. He loved listening to Aziraphale talk, about anything. 

“How is the online thing going?” Crowley asked. 

“Oh, very well. We finished all the photography in a day, now they’re going to spend the next couple of days getting the photographs ready for the website. Editing and so on. It's my job, in the interim, to write up descriptions and prices for all the books I’m willing to sell. They’ll use the publisher’s listings for the regular books.” 

“When will you go live?”

“Hopefully by the first of next week. It depends on how much I can get done during the days. They’re kind of waiting on me.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to get it all done in a day?”

“Probably not, but I’ll get as much done as I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. What did you think of Pepper today?”

“Oh, she seems very nice, and quite capable. I’m looking forward to working with her. I am impressed that she said she’d have final designs for us to go over by the weekend. I had really expected her to need a bit more time.”

“Yes, well, she’s getting paid handsomely to hurry.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him playfully. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Crowley smiled innocently. “Well, what do you expect? You said you’d move in when the renovations were done and the flat was sold - I’m anxious for it to be done.”

“Fiend,” Aziraphale said affectionately. Crowley just grinned.

“Did you invite your mother over this weekend?”

“I did. She’s coming Sunday, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is. Shall we order in again, or would you like to cook?”

“I like to be in the kitchen with you,” Crowley said, “so if it’s alright, can we cook?”

“Of course we can, darling. What would you like to make?”

“How about we make another spinach lasagne? That was really good.”

“Spinach lasagne it is.”

“I appreciate it, sweetheart.” 

“It’s my pleasure.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, and Crowley’s nerves returned. It was almost to the end of the meal, he’d _have_ to ask soon. Wouldn't he?

The waiter came to retrieve their plates and bring the champagne Aziraphale had ordered. They thanked him politely, with a smile, and when he was gone, Aziraphale turned to Crowley. It was _time_. His heart rate picked up and he swallowed hard. 

“I’m not very good with words, darling, but I have something I’d like to say to you. I wonder if you would be offended if I used someone else’s words to tell you how I feel?”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and began to recite:

_I love you,  
not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.  
I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.  
I love you, for the part of me that you bring out.  
I love you, for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart, and passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can’t help dimly seeing there, and for drawing out, into the light, all the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find.  
I love you, because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life not a tavern, but a temple.  
Out of the works of my every day, not a reproach, but a song.  
I love you, because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good, and more than any fate could have done to make me happy.  
You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign.  
You have done it by being yourself.  
Perhaps that is what being a friend means, after all._

Crowley blinked back tears. “That was beautiful, angel.”

“It was honest. I didn’t write it, but I very well could have. It speaks my heart. I love you completely, I love you wholly. And I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you, too, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the small box, and looked at it for a second. 

“Crowley, I know you think I’m being ridiculous by doing this. And perhaps I am. I’ve been known to be ridiculous before. But I couldn’t resist the chance to tell you how I felt, in a formal setting, and lay my heart bare. I couldn’t resist the chance to woo you, and I thank you for the opportunity.”

“You’re welcome,” Crowley said, because he didn’t quite know what else to say.

Aziraphale looked nervous, but he swallowed hard and said, “Anthony Jay Crowley, I had no idea my life was lacking when I met you. I thought I had everything I needed. But from the moment you walked into my world, right here in this very room, everything has been _sweeter_. It’s been richer. It’s been fuller. And I’ve learned, for the first time, what love is. I know you’re not religious, but there’s a passage in the bible that talks about what love is and isn’t. I thought I understood that, but I didn’t really until you came into my life. Now I know. I really know what love is. And I want to experience it forever.”

He got out of his seat and came towards Crowley, dropping to one knee and opening the ring box, offering it up. 

“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Would you please marry me?”

Crowley nodded, his eyes swimming with tears. “Yes. I can’t fucking _wait_ to marry you. I love you, angel.”

Aziraphale beamed up at him, and Crowley bent down to kiss him, elated and overwhelmed. The kiss didn’t break until Aziraphale pulled back, his huge smile matching Crowley’s, and pulled out the ring to slide onto Crowley’s finger. Crowley watched him put it on with wide eyes. 

“I love you so fucking much, angel.”

“I love you, too.”

“Come up here and kiss me.”

Aziraphale leaned forward and Crowley claimed his mouth, kissing him almost triumphantly. Their tongues met and slid by each other, and Crowley found himself getting lost in the kiss. His cock was twitching in his trousers and his arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders and he’d lost all sense of place and time. It didn’t matter. He was kissing the love of his life, his fiancé, and nothing else mattered at all. 

Aziraphale broke the kiss after a while, smiling against Crowley’s lips. “We’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care,” he said, and kissed Aziraphale again. 

Aziraphale chuckled into the kiss, and Crowley considered undressing him right there in the restaurant. His cock was _aching_ , and he needed Aziraphale. Soon. Very fucking soon.

When the kiss broke again, they were both out of breath. Aziraphale smiled up at Crowley, still on his knees, and Crowley looked at him with so much love he thought his heart would burst.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I’m about to ruin the moment.”

“Oh, I don’t think you could, but go ahead.”

“I want to take you home and when we get there, I want you to fuck me.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “Why would you think that would ruin the moment? I very much want to do that. I’ve staked a claim to you partially just now, I’m anxious to claim you fully.”

Crowley kissed him again, hard. “Call for the bill. I need to get out of here and get you home. I’m dying to feel you inside me.”

“Anything you want, my love. Whose flat?”

“Mine is closer and I don’t think I can wait an extra second to have you.”

“Yours it is.”

~*~O~*~

The door hadn’t even closed behind them when Aziraphale pushed Crowley up against the wall, his hands fisted in Crowley’s jacket, his cock grinding against Crowley’s, kissing him desperately. Crowley whimpered and returned the kiss, dropping his keys to the ground and clutching at Aziraphale with both hands. Aziraphale situated a leg between Crowley’s and he started grinding down on it, seeking friction for his cock.

Aziraphale broke the kiss, leaving both of them panting and Crowley immediately set to work on his neck, sucking and licking and biting. 

“Crowley, my darling…”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I want to fuck you. I _need_ to fuck you.”

Crowley whined and bit at his throat. “Take me to bed, angel. Please.”

Aziraphale ground up against him a little more, gripping Crowley’s arse, then pulled away, leaving Crowley bereft. “Come with me, darling. Let’s go to our bed.”

 _Our bed_. Crowley nearly died from joy. 

He followed Aziraphale down the corridor to his bedroom, shedding clothes as hard as he could go. By the time they reached the side of the bed, he’d gotten rid of his jacket, tie, shirt, and shoes. When Aziraphale turned around, still fully dressed, Crowley attacked him, kissing him hard and needy. He started pulling at Aziraphale’s coat, desperate to get it off, and when it was gone, he went to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. 

Aziraphale reached between them to help, and Crowley stopped him. “Not tonight, angel. I want to unwrap you like a goddamn gift. Specifically, I want to do this,” he said, then reached up to the bowtie, pulling it loose, watching it untie and hang loosely around Aziraphale’s neck. “Fuck, I like that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do. You should wear it more often.”

“Maybe I will,” Aziraphale said coyly, with a half-quirked smile. 

Crowley went to work on the buttons of his shirt, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed until the vest got in the way. When it did, he grunted frustratedly and pulled Aziraphale’s shirt open, popping a few buttons. He looked up at Aziraphale, expecting an admonishment, but his love was grinning at him. 

“Eager, are we?”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a whole fucking wardrobe.”

“We can talk about that later - _after_ I fuck you.”

Crowley groaned and captured his mouth, kissing him hard, and they both fell into a flurry of activity, getting each other naked. Every inch of skin revealed to Crowley had to be kissed or licked or touched, and it seemed to take _ages_ but finally they were naked and on the bed together. Both of them had their hands around each other’s cocks, and they were kissing intently. 

“How do you want me to fuck you, beloved?” Aziraphale asked. 

Corwley groaned against the skin of his throat. “I don’t know. I just want you to. I can’t wait to feel _this_ inside me,” he said with a squeeze to Aziraphale’s cock. 

“I’ll give you anything you want. Do you have the lubricant?”

“Yes. Fuck. I’ll get it,” he said, then rolled over to fetch it. While he was turned away, Aziraphale leaned over and started pressing kisses on his shoulders, rubbing his hands all over Crowley’s back. When he rolled back over, Aziraphale was propped on top of him and kissed him thoroughly. Dimly, he felt Aziraphale pull the lube out of his hand. 

“I’m going to fuck you, darling, but I’d like to play with you a bit, too.”

“You can do anything you want to me.”

“Good. All I ask you to do right now is lay back and relax. Let me make you feel good. Let me worship you.”

“If that’s what you want…”

“Yes, that’s what I want. And I want you to talk to me.”

Crowley nodded. “Anything.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good. Let me show you.”

He started trailing kisses down Crowley’s chest, using his hand to pull Crowley’s legs open. He swirled his tongue around a nipple, then Crowley felt slick fingers between his cheeks, massaging him. Aziraphale continued to kiss his way downwards, sucking and kissing the skin of his torso, then dragging his tongue down his belly. Crowley watched him, his eyes hungry, his cock throbbing. The pressure on his arsehole grew until he felt Aziraphale slide one thick digit inside at the same moment he took the head of Crowley’s cock into his mouth. Crowley groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

“Fuck, angel. Feels so good. Fuck.”

Aziraphale swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, then opened to take him deeper. 

“Ooooh, fuck, angel. Your mouth is so hot. I love it so much… I love _you_ so much…”

He was fucking Crowley on his finger, but deftly avoiding his prostate. Crowley wanted more, needed more, so he asked. 

“Give me another finger, angel.”

The pressure grew on his arsehole again, building gradually while Aziraphale bobbed on his cock. Eventually, Crowley relaxed enough that he felt Aziraphale slide both fingers inside and he groaned again. 

“Fuck, angel. Your fingers feel so fucking good…”

Aziraphale sucked him and fucked him on his fingers, establishing a fantastic rhythm, and Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head. It felt so good, so damned good… he could hardly form thoughts. 

“More, angel, give me more. I’m so greedy for you… I need more. Please.”

Aziraphale took him deeper, until he felt the head of his cock hit the back of Aziraphale’s throat, and he let out a ragged sound of pleasure. His hands came up to wind through Aziraphale’s curls, the way he knew his love liked, and Aziraphale made a sound of approval that vibrated Crowley just right. The fingers in his arse slid in and out, and Crowley jumped a little when they started to massage his prostate. 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, angel… like that. Just like that.”

He sped up the motions of his hands and mouth, making wet, slurping sounds, and Crowley felt himself climbing. His balls were tensing up and he could feel that hot ball of tension at the base of his spine, telling him he was close. 

“Angel… angel… I’m going to come. You have to stop. I’m gonna come…”

Aziraphale did not stop, in fact, he sucked and fucked him more ardently. Crowley tightened his hands in his hair, unsure whether to pull him off or encourage him. 

“Angel, please,” he nearly sobbed, overstimulated and so, so close. He had no idea what he was begging for, whether he wanted Aziraphale to stop or never, ever stop, but he knew that whatever Aziraphale did would be perfect, because it was him. 

Suddenly, it was too late. He was too close to stop himself from barreling over the cliff. 

“Angel… angel… here I come! Shit! Here I come!”

He exploded into Aziraphale’s mouth, utterly helpless, his whole body seized up in pleasure. Aziraphale was relentless, fucking him and sucking him as hard as before, making happy noises and swallowing around Crowley’s cock, his fingers still massaging Crowley’s prostate. Crowley jerked and twitched, riddled with ecstasy, until he simply couldn't take anymore and he pulled Aziraphale’s head off forcefully and collapsed on the bed, a boneless heap, panting for breath. 

He shuddered with aftershocks as Aziraphale licked him clean, sliding his fingers out of Crowley’s arse, then started kissing his way back up Crowley's body with gentle kisses. Crowley just lay there, his chest heaving, tingling pleasantly, trying to get his bearings. When Aziraphale reached his mouth, he kissed Crowley sweetly, languidly, and smiled against his lips. “Was that good, my love?”

Crowley nodded, still out of breath. “That was good. So fucking good.”

Aziraphale chuckled and pressed another kiss to his open mouth. “Good. I love you,” he said, then collapsed onto the bed beside Crowley, snuggling closer.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked a couple of minutes later, when he’d gotten himself together and Aziraphale hadn’t moved. 

“I’m getting comfortable.”

“Why? You promised to fuck me.”

“But dear…”

“But nothing. Did you come?”

“No, but…”

“No buts. You _promised,_ Aziraphale.”

“Are you even _ready_ for more sex?”

“You let me worry about me. I just need you to fuck me, like you promised.” He pushed Aziraphale onto his back and then swung his leg over him, straddling him. “It’s your turn to come, and I want you to come in my arse.”

Aziraphale’s eyes glittered. “You do, do you?”

“Oh, yes.” Crowley kissed him as seductively as he was able, then pushed himself up to sitting on Aziraphale. He reached over to grab the discarded lube and used it to slick Aziraphale’s hard, thick cock while Aziraphale rubbed his thighs and gazed up at him with smoldering eyes.

“I love you, my darling.”

“I love you, too,” Crowley said, lining up his cock with his hole. Once he had it, he started to slide backwards, easing Aziraphale inside, until he had Aziraphale as far as he could go. “Fuck,” he said. “You feel so fucking good, angel.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, his voice strained. “You feel heavenly, too.”

“Let me make you feel better,” Crowley said, then started rolling his hips in a circular motion, fucking himself gently on Aziraphale’s cock. Aziraphale squeezed the flesh of his thighs, closing his eyes, and Crowley grinned. “That good, angel?”

“It’s so good, Crowley. Your arse... it’s so tight around me.”

“That’s because your cock is so big. It fills me up so good…””

“More. Please, give me more.”

Crowley started to bounce on him a little, bracing himself with hands on Aziraphale’s chest. “Like that, sweetheart?”

Aziraphale had put his hands on Crowley’s hips and was fucking up into him with short, sharp thrusts. “Yes, Crowley, it’s perfect. So perfect. Fuck!”

“Oooh, Aziraphale, your cock is so good… it fills me just right and hits me in the perfect spot…”

“Can you come again, Crowley? Have you got one more in you?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But it feels _really_ good.”

Aziraphale reached up and started to stroke Crowley’s bobbing cock. “I think I want you to. I want to feel you come for me.”

“Fuck,” Crowley said, and started riding him harder, hitting his prostate with every motion. 

“I love to look at you, Crowley, perched up there like some sort of deity. And you are, aren’t you? You’re _my_ deity, and I worship you.”

“I… I worship you, too,” he said, then fell forward, bracing himself on his arms beside Aziraphale’s head, letting his hair fall all around his face. This position made Aziraphale’s cock rub his prostate _more_ and Crowley knew he’d be able to come again. He could feel himself climbing already. 

Aziraphale fucked him harder, one hand on Crowley’s cock and the other clinging to his back, fingertips digging into skin. Crowley closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth, letting himself be fucked. 

“Fuck, angel… I love the way you fuck me. I love the way you fill me. Give me more.”

“Come here,” Aziraphale said, threading his fingers through Crowley’s hair and pulling him down into a messy kiss. Crowley hovered over top of him, being fucked hard and fast, and whined pitifully into the kiss. He was getting so close…

He was surprised when Aziraphale pitched him off and over onto his back, but hardly had time to be surprised before Aziraphale was between his legs and had thrust home again. Crowley let out a shout, a sound bereft of consonants, and clung to Aziraphale’s back. 

“Yes, Crowley, yes…” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth, his voice rough with exertion. “Yes, darling... your arse feels so good and I’m going to fill it, to claim it. It’s mine. _You’re_ mine. And now you will be forever.”

“Yes! I’m yours!” 

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come,” Aziraphale ordered. 

Crowley obeyed, fisting his cock and pumping it as hard and fast as Aziraphale was fucking him, his face screwed up in pleasure. 

“Oh God, oh fuck, Aziraphale… Oh fuck…”

“Come for me, Crowley. Come again. I need to see your face. Fuck! Come, darling!”

Crowley came so hard he saw stars, shouting his pleasure at the top of his lungs. It felt like his orgasm had turned him inside out, his whole body singing, and he sobbed his release. 

He was still coming when Aziraphale suddenly froze, emptying himself into Crowley’s arse. He thrust weakly a couple of times, his teeth bared, then went still. Crowley was grateful. He couldn’t take anymore. 

There were no sounds in the room other than their harsh breaths, and Aziraphale had his eyes closed when Crowley looked up at him. He looked wrecked in the best possible way, and Crowley smiled tiredly. He reached up to touch Aziraphale’s shoulder, feeling him trembling, and Aziraphale opened his eyes. 

They both smiled, the blue eyes meeting the gold, and Aziraphale bent down to press a soft kiss to Crowley’s open mouth. 

“I love you so much, darling.”

“I love you, too,” he breathed. 

Aziraphale kissed him one more time, withdrawing slowly, making both of them whimper from the loss. When his cock was free of Crowley’s body, he collapsed into Crowley’s side and Crowley rolled towards him, winding him up in his long limbs. They moved around, getting situated, until they were both lying on their side, facing each other, their arms wrapped around each other, breaths brushing each other’s lips. 

“I love you so much, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale smiled tiredly. “I love you, too. Was that good for you?”

“Fuck yes. I haven’t come twice like that in … shit. Fifteen years. I didn’t know I was still capable of it.”

“Well, it’s good to learn something new about yourself.”

Crowley chuckled, kissed him, then sighed. They lay there for a little while, silently, coming down from their highs until their breathing and heart rates were normal. Crowley raised his hand to look at his ring, smiling. “We’re engaged, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled and stroked Crowley’s back gently. “Yes, we are. You’ll be my husband soon.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I can’t either.”

“When do you want to be married?”

“I don’t know. On one hand, I’d marry you tomorrow. On the other, I think we should wait a while. We really do have quite a lot going on in our lives.”

“I know. I just know people are going to ask us, and figured we should at least have _some_ idea.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t want to wait until the anniversary of our first date, would you?”

Crowley cringed. “I mean, I will, but I’d rather not.”

“I figured not. Why don't we plan on a winter wedding? Maybe Christmas or New Year in Scotland?”

“I think that would be perfect, angel. The house will be beautiful decorated for the season.” 

“Then let’s do that. We’ll plan on a winter wedding in Scotland.”

“Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Aziraphale kissed him sweetly. “All I want is you, darling. Just a happy life with you.”

“Then that’s what I’m going to give you. A happy life as my husband.”

“I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This beautiful art by the lovely Yvesriba!!


	28. Chapter 28

_Thursday, 19 August_

“I talked to Anathema today,” Crowley was saying as they came into Aziraphale’s flat from dinner and their appointments with the designer for the gala. 

“Oh? What did you say?”

“I told her that we were engaged and to get ready for the announcement. But that we weren’t ready to release anything now, we still had people in our real lives to tell.”

“What did she say?”

Crowley shrugged, going to sit on Aziraphale’s couch. “Nothing much, except ‘congratulations’. She did encourage me to tell our families soon, because she says it's only a matter of time before someone gets a photo of us wearing rings and the story explodes.”

“That’s probably true. Do you still want to have your mother over for dinner Sunday, or would you like to move it to tomorrow?”

“Let’s do it tomorrow, if she’s willing.”

“That’s fine with me. Well, I suppose that means I should tell Uriel, doesn’t it?” he said with a sigh. 

“Yeah. And I should tell the band.”

“Why don’t we do that tonight? I’ll ring Uriel while you text your mum and ask her to come tomorrow night, and then you can text the band.”

Crowley kissed him sweetly. “I think that sounds great. Are you up for talking to your sister?”

“I’m as up for it as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ve never told me much about her. What’s she like?”

“She’s a solicitor, and embodies every stereotypical trait that comes with that. She’s very no-nonsense. Rigid. No sense of humor.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“She’s not much like me, no. She’s never approved of me.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to. Are you sure you want to call her?”

“I haven’t talked to her in several months, since her birthday in January. I really should.”

“Okay. You go ahead and ring her, and I’ll text Mum.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said, pulling out his mobile, trying not to let on that he was nervous. “I’ll ring her now.”

He unlocked the phone and scrolled to Uriel’s contact, then pressed the button to dial her. He raised the phone to his ear, his heart fluttering nervously, and waited for her to pick up. On the third ring, she did.

“Hello?”

“Uriel? It’s Aziraphale.”

“Oh, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, how are you?”

“I shouldn't complain.”

“How is work?” 

“Work is the same as it ever is. Nothing new there.”

“Ah. Well, I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I understand you have some exciting news, though. A new boyfriend, according to the red tops.”

“I - yes. I do.”

“What happened to Gabriel? He was so nice.”

“He wasn’t as nice as people thought he was, and I wasn’t happy with him. But I don’t want to talk about Gabriel,” he said, and didn’t miss the way Crowley’s face darkened. He put his hand on Crowley’s to soothe him. 

“Dating a rock star,” Uriel said in a wondering, almost condescending tone. “I have to admit, it’s not what I expected of you.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not what I expected of me, either. But I’m blissfully happy.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Now, why are you calling? I was in the middle of something.”

“Oh, well, I won’t keep you. I only wanted to inform you that Crowley and I have decided to be married,” he said, squeezing Crowley’s hand, getting a squeeze and a smile in return. 

“You have?” Uriel said, sounding surprised. 

“Yes, we have. And I wanted to tell you myself before the media published the story and you found out second hand.”

“Well, I suppose I appreciate that. Are you quite sure you want to marry this man, Aziraphale? It’s unlike you to get swept up in a whirlwind romance with someone and decide to get married. You’re usually much more deliberate than that. It’s one of your better qualities - that you’re not reckless.”

“I’m quite sure, Uriel. I’ve never felt like this before, and I’m absolutely certain.”

“Is he there with you?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, a bit wide eyed, and said, “Yes. He’s here.”

“I’d like to speak with him, please.”

“Oh, Uriel, I don’t think so.”

“I insist, Aziraphale. Please put me on speakerphone.”

Crowley squeezed his hand. “It’s alright, angel,” he whispered. 

Aziraphale gave him an unsure look, but put the phone on speaker. “Alright, Uriel. He can hear you.”

“Hello, Uriel,” Crowley said pleasantly, with a smile. “I’m so glad to finally talk to you. Aziraphale says such nice things.”

Uriel made an ugly noise in the phone. “I’m sure he doesn’t. He probably never speaks of me.”

“What do you want him for, Uriel?” Aziraphale asked, hoping to speed this along. 

“Right. Well, Mr. Crowley, as I’m sure you’re aware, our parents are deceased, leaving only Aziraphale and myself. We’re not terribly close, but he _is_ my little brother, and I _do_ love him. I don’t know you well and doubt I ever will. Aziraphale has not always been known to make the best decisions, but I trust that he’s making a wise one now. I also trust that you can be counted on to treat him with the respect and love he deserves.”

Aziraphale found himself unexpectedly choked up, and Crowley gave a small smile. “I will. I promise to love him and cherish him forever. You have my word.”

“Good. Now, I’d like to meet you at some point. Perhaps we could all go to dinner.”

“I think that would be nice.”

“We can work something out, Uriel.”

“Yes, I hope we do. Well, congratulations to the both of you. I hope you’ll have a good night. Aziraphale, I’ll speak with you soon?”

“Yes, I’ll ring you one day next week, and we’ll talk.”

“Very good. You two have a pleasant evening.” Then she rang off.

Aziraphale pressed the red button to end the call. Crowley was grinning. “She’s… intense.”

“Honestly, Crowley, that’s the most pleasant I’ve heard her in _years_.”

“Well, maybe this will help her turn a corner.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.”

Crowley kissed him quickly. “Do you feel better now that you’ve told her?”

“Yes, I think I do. One more step out of the way. Did you hear back from your mother?”

Crowley glanced down at his mobile. “I just did. She says tomorrow night is fine. She’ll meet us at the flat at 6:30.”

“That’s perfect. So what’s next?”

“Now I suppose we should tell the band.”

“Oh, yes. How do you want to go about notifying them?”

“Just a group text will be fine. Here. I’ve had an idea.”

He reached for Aziraphale’s left hand and lay it on his thigh, so the ring grabbed the light. He laid his own left hand over it, making sure both rings were visible, aimed the mobile and took a picture. That done, he pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek and started typing on his phone, smiling. He pressed one last button, looked up at Aziraphale, and smiled.

“What did you do?” Aziraphale asked, smiling. 

“You’ll see,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. 

Just then, Aziraphale’s mobile chimed and he picked it up to look at it. There were two messages from Crowley. 

Crowley: _New group text with band members and spouses to include Aziraphale._

Then the next message was the photo of their hands and a caption to go with it. 

Crowley: _GUESS WHAT, FUCKERS?! You’re gonna have to come to a WEDDING_

Aziraphale laughed delightedly, joy bubbling out of his chest and into sound. Crowley grinned back at him. They just had time for one quick kiss before they were hit with a barrage of messages. 

Dagon: _are u serious??? WOW!!_  
Beezle: _damn, you don’t move slow, do you? Congratulations!_  
Danielle: _Ligur’s mobile is on the charger but we’re both *so excited*! Welcome, Aziraphale!_  
Hastur: _Holy shit! I never thought you’d do it. Congrats!_  
Danielle: _OMG! Welcome Aziraphale! I need all the wedding details ASAP! Wine soon!_

Crowley looked up at him. “See? They’re all so happy for us. I knew they would be. You’ve been fully accepted as one of the gang.”

Aziraphale laughed again, too happy to contain it. “I do love you, darling.”

Crowley leaned forward and kissed his smile. “I love you, too.”

~*~O~*~

_Friday, 20 August_

Aziraphale arrived at the flat at a little before six, escorted by Shadwell, and after a sweet kiss, they jumped in together to prepare dinner. It had just gone into the oven and they were finishing work on the salad when the doorbell rang at 6:30. 

Crowley turned to Aziraphale with a smile. “Ready?”

Aziraphale was also smiling, drying his hands on a dishtowel. “I’m very ready.”

They went to the foyer to open the door for Crowley’s mum, and there were hugs all around. Crowley was pleased when Lucy embraced Aziraphale the same way she embraced him. 

“Aziraphale, you’re looking well. And you’ve gotten your hair cut since I last saw you three weeks ago. It’s a bit shorter than usual.”

“Yes, I did. It gets so hot when it’s long. And also a bit big.”

Lucy chuckled. “Well, I think you look very dashing.”

“Come on in and have a seat, mum,” Crowley said. “The lasagne is in the oven, but it needs another thirty minutes.”

“It smells heavenly,” she said, following them into the lounge. 

“I hope you’ll like it. It was my mother’s recipe.”

“I'm sure I’ll love it.”

“Can I get you a drink, Mum?” Crowley offered.

“Oh, yes. I’ll have a glass of wine, if that’s alright.”

“No problem. How about you, angel?”

“I’m alright for now, thank you.”

He kissed Aziraphale’s temple quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

In the kitchen, he poured himself and his mother a glass of white wine, then checked the food. It seemed to be fine, so he grabbed the wine and headed back into the lounge to rejoin his fiancé and mother. 

“I know I’m probably terribly biased,” his mum was saying, “but I’ve never seen a child so talented as my sausage. He picked up that guitar and taught himself to play quicker than I could blink. I’ve never seen the like.”

“I can believe that,” Aziraphale said with a smile at Crowley. Crowley smiled back, giving the wine to his mother and coming to sit beside Aziraphale. 

“Yes. From the very beginning, he played all day, but then his father left and took the guitar with him, and poor Anthony was left with nothing for a while.”

“Oh, no… what did you do?”

“Well, he was already so devastated because his father had left, and then to have his greatest source of joy gone… the light just went out of his eyes. So I called Alistair and begged him to bring the guitar back. I told him I’d never ask him for anything, if he’d just bring back the guitar so Anthony could play.”

“What did he say?”

“The bastard said no,” Crowley scoffed. “He told her he wasn’t coming back for any reason.”

“You’re kidding!”

“He’s not. That’s almost exactly what he said. So I told him to go to hell and never spoke to him again.”

“Good for you,” Aziraphale said approvingly. 

“Yeah. I didn’t understand at the time - or even know much about it - but once I did, I was really proud of her for that,” Crowley said with a smile for his mum. 

Lucy looked pleased. “Well, I did it for you.”

“I know. And I love you, too.”

“So how did you get a guitar?”

“Dad left in November, so Mum picked up extra shifts at the hospital and had ‘Father Christmas’ bring a guitar on Christmas morning.”

“Well, in a way, it was from Father Christmas,” Lucy said, her eyes twinkling.

“He wouldn’t have brought me a top of the line Gibson, Mum. That was all you.”

“It was worth it to see the spark back in your eyes. Every penny was well spent. That guitar, and music in general, became your safe place, and it’s been that way ever since.”

“Now I have a new safe place. Aziraphale is my safe place,” Crowley said, squeezing Aziraphale.

“Yes, it sure seems so. And I’m so happy about that. I hope it’s always that way.”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale quickly, who also shot him a look. “Actually, Mum, we have something we wanted to tell you.”

“Oh? Are you remodeling? I noticed building plans on the coffee table.”

“No. I mean, yes, we are remodeling, and Aziraphale is going to move in with me. But that’s not what we wanted to tell you.”

“Well, go on, sausage. I’m all ears.”

Crowley took a deep breath. “Last week, I took Aziraphale to Scotland on holiday, and while we were there, I proposed to him.”

Lucy looked surprised but pleased. “You did?”

“I did.”

“And I assume you said yes, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale nodded happily. “I did.”

“Well you could knock me over with a feather,” Lucy said with a bright smile. “I always wanted more children, now I’ll have _two_ amazing sons to be proud of.”

Crowley beamed. “I’d hoped you’d be happy for us.”

“I’m thrilled for you. When do you plan to be married?”

“We were thinking of this winter. Maybe in Scotland.”

“Oh, that would be lovely. Are you excited?”

“Mum, I’m over the bloody moon.”

Aziraphale smiled and nodded agreement. “Me, too.”

“Well, that’s all any mother could ask for. I’m thrilled to bits for both of you. Oh, come here,” she said, getting to her feet and reaching for Crowley, hugging him. “I’m so proud of you, sausage.”

“Thank you, Mum.”

Then she hugged Aziraphale. Crowley was blinking back tears watching them, and he couldn't hear what she said, but he _did_ hear her call him ‘crumpet’.

The oven timer went off, ending the embrace, and the three of them went to the kitchen to finish up dinner as a family. Once they had it ready, they went to the dining room to eat and spent the next hour talking about wedding plans.

~*~O~*~

_Saturday, 21 August_

It had been a quiet, lovely day. Aziraphale had worked at the shop and Crowley had spent the day tinkering in the studio, since he would be spending the vast majority of his time at Aziraphale’s for the next few weeks during the remodel, which started on Monday. He’d picked Aziraphale up when the shop closed at four and they’d gone to the park to feed the ducks, enjoying the day and the last little bit of peace before the press found out about the engagement and things got hectic again for a while. After, they’d come back to Aziraphale’s flat and ordered dinner, then settled into a quiet, peaceful evening. 

They were on another episode of Great British Bake Off when Crowley’s phone rang. He nearly ignored it, but when he saw it was Anathema, he gave Aziraphale an apologetic kiss and picked it up. 

“Hello!”

“Hi, there. You sound chipper. What are you doing?”

“Just enjoying a quiet night with Aziraphale. But I suspect you’re about to fuck that six ways from Sunday, aren’t you?”

“Not necessarily tonight, but soon, yeah.”

Corwley sighed a little. “What have you got?”

“It’s about the engagement. I’ve had an idea.”

“Hold on, I’m going to put you on speaker. Aziraphale should be a part of this.” He lowered the phone and pressed the little button that would put them on speaker, then laid it down. “Alright, go ahead.”

“Is he with you?”

“I’m here, Anathema,” Aziraphale said. 

“Hi, Aziraphale. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, dear. You had an idea for announcing our engagement?”

“I do. I’ve talked to Mary and we both think you should make a social media announcement, Crowley. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram… any one of them, or all of them.”

Crowley shot a look at Aziraphale. “Why social media?”

“Because it will be more personal if it comes from you. The fans will appreciate it more. A drafted press release isn’t going to get the warm reception a heartfelt post from you will.”

“When should we do this?”

“You can do it whenever you want, but it probably needs to be done within the next couple of days. There was some chatter today in the facebook groups about a ring. It’s only a matter of time before the press latches onto that and they’re spotted.”

Crowley bit back a sigh and Aziraphale covered his hand. It was a comfort.

“What do you think, angel? Are you ready to tell my millions of followers that you’re going to make an honest man of me?”

Aziraphale grinned. “I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Tonight?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, Anathema. We’ll do it tonight. Do you have any suggestions?”

“If you’re going to pick one, I’d pick instagram, maybe sharing a nice photo of the two of you.”

“We could share the photo you took of our rings, Crowley. The one we sent to the band.”

“That would work. Anathema, do you have any input you’d like to give as to the language?”

“No, I think you’ve got this. Just something heartfelt, something genuine.”

“Alright, I think I can do that.”

“Sounds good. I’ll ring you tomorrow. You two have a great night.”

“Thanks, Anathema,”

“Yes, thank you, Anathema.”

“You’re welcome. Talk to you soon.”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other for a minute, and Crowley had no idea what to say. He tried to wrangle his thoughts for a minute, until Aziraphale smiled at him. 

“So we’re about to announce it to the world?”

“It looks like we are.”

“Well, what shall we say?”

“I’ve got an idea.” Crowley unlocked his mobile, went to instagram, selected the photo, and then started to type while Aziraphale waited patiently. When he was done, he handed the phone to Aziraphale.

Crowley4Real: _I’m not a particularly religious man, and I never have been, but I have to believe that Someone has been smiling down on me. Four and a half months ago, a man walked into my life and changed everything. I’m in love for the first time, head over heels, and I’ve never been so happy. So last week, I asked him to marry me. The love I feel for him is so big, I can’t describe it. It’s utterly ineffable. And I’m so excited to sail into the future with him. Aziraphale, I love you and I can’t wait for our forever._

_Thank you to my fans for all the support. I love you all! @azfellandco #aziracrow #ineffablehusbands #happy #togetherforever_

Aziraphale looked up at him, smiling, tears in his eyes. “I love you, too, dear.”

“Shall I hit send?”

“I think so.”

“Here we go…” Crowley pushed send, and waited until he had confirmation that it had been posted, then smiled at Aziraphale. “There we go. It’s posted. We’re as official as we can get, until we’re legally married.”

“I can’t wait, darling.”

Crowley looked down at his mobile. “We’re already getting comments. Do you want to read a few, or just leave them?”

“Are they complementary?”

“They seem to be so far, but you know there will be arseholes mixed in there, too.”

“Then let’s not. Let’s just cuddle and watch telly and forget that the world exists until we have to pay attention to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Crowley said, kissing him sweetly, then resuming their cuddling position.

~*~O~*~

_Friday, 27 August_

Aziraphale had slept restlessly the night before, and was wide-eyed with the first rays of dawn. He didn’t _need_ to be at work for another three hours, but try as he might, he couldn’t go back to sleep. He still had the Wilde books he’d purchased from Wilkins that he hadn’t had time to work on yet. Maybe if he went in a bit early, he could do so. That seemed like a fine plan, so Aziraphale rolled out of bed to start the day. 

He texted Shadwell to ask if he would be willing to come to the shop a bit early, feeling silly even as he did so. But he knew that Crowley would be upset if he didn’t, so he did. Shadwell replied right away that he’d be there in thirty minutes, so Aziraphale made himself a little breakfast and drank his coffee, excited to go downstairs and work on his Wildes.

When Shadwell texted that he was downstairs, Aziraphale went into the bedroom to tell Crowley where he was going and kiss him goodbye. Crowley muttered something in return and hardly stirred, so Aziraphale just kissed him again, smiled softly, and went to the kitchen to write him a note. He told Crowley he’d gone to work early and he loved him, then signed the note with hugs and kisses and propped it on the vase in the middle of the table, where Crowley would be sure to see it. 

Humming a little, he went to the door and opened it with a smile. When he saw what was waiting for him, he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember - I promise a happy ending for everyone. 
> 
> Happy New Year! 🥂


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now officially my longest Good Omens story... we broke a hundred thousand words!!

Crowley had woken up enough to mumble ‘I love you, too’ when Aziraphale kissed him and told him goodbye, then he’d instantly fallen fast asleep again. But that sleep was broken a couple of minutes later when he heard a blood-curdling scream. 

He bolted out of bed, disoriented, then ran towards the source of the screaming, his heart in his throat. Aziraphale. He had to get to Aziraphale. 

He found Aziraphale standing at the door, looking at something Crowley couldn’t see, his hands over his face, sobbing. Crowley didn’t hesitate, he just pulled Aziraphale into his arms. Below him, at the street, he heard a huge crash and bang, then Shadwell came barreling up the stairs, wide-eyed.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“I don’t know,” Crowley said, then he saw. On the wall opposite them in the stairwell, the words ‘DIE AZIRAPHALE’ were spraypainted in dripping red. His blood ran cold and he looked down to see that there was a babydoll lying at his feet, its head pulled off, covered in red paint and lying in a pool of paint that looked like blood. Suddenly, he felt like screaming, too. 

“Call the police,” he said in a terse voice to Shadwell, over Aziraphale’s sobs. “Don’t touch anything. Get them here as quickly as you can. Say anything you have to to get them here. Then wait by the door.”

“Yes, sir,” Shadwell said, pulling out his mobile to do as instructed. Crowley nodded once in approval and led a sobbing Aziraphale inside. 

Once they were in the flat, Crowley had no idea what to do. He felt utterly lost and completely terrified, but there was no time to feel that way. Aziraphale needed him now. He could worry about his feelings later. He led Aziraphale over to the couch and gently urged him to sit down, keeping his arms around him. 

As soon as they were sitting, Aziraphale fell over against Crowley’s chest and cried loudly, and Crowley rocked him as best he could, the way you would a small child. 

“It’s alright, angel. It’s alright. I’ve got you, and you’re safe,” he said, as much to soothe himself as to soothe Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale just sobbed pitifully in his arms, and Crowley let him. He felt like sobbing, too, but managed to limit himself to a few stray, silent tears. In a low voice, he kept soothing Aziraphale as best he could. 

Finally, his cries started to dry up a bit, and Crowley surreptitiously wiped his own tears away. Aziraphale sat back from him and he hated it, hated the distance. He wanted - needed - to feel Aziraphale in his arms, but satisfied himself with holding his beloved’s hand. 

“Are you alright?” he asked belatedly, looking Aziraphale over hurriedly for any injury. “Are you hurt?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No. I’m - I’m fine.”

“You’re not, but you will be. I won’t let anything happen to you, angel. I swear it.”

“They were _here_ , Crowley. They were just outside the door while we slept!”

“I know. I know, angel,” Crowley said, fear clawing at the back of his throat. “I know they were.”

“What are we going to _do_?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes wide and fearful. 

Crowley didn’t have an answer, but thankfully, he didn’t need one yet. There was a knock at the door. Crowley debated just a moment, then decided that Aziraphale would still be in sight if he went to the door, and that was good enough for right now. So he went to answer it. 

Shadwell stood on the other side, his back straight, looking grim. “The police have been contacted. They’re sending someone now. Shouldn’t be long.”

“I hope they fucking hurry. I’m anxious to get Aziraphale out of here.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Thank you, Shadwell. Guard the door until they get here and have them knock when they arrive.”

“Aye.”

Crowley closed the door again and turned to find Aziraphale on the sofa, looking small, rubbing his nose with a tissue, clearly trying to get a hold of himself. It made his heart ache, and he went back to sit with him. 

“Did you hear Shadwell?” he asked gently. 

Aziraphale nodded. “I did. The police are on the way.”

“If you want to, we’ll leave now. We’ll go to my flat and the DIs can meet us there.”

“I - I think I’m alright to wait here,” Aziraphale said, sounding shaky. 

Crowley wasn’t sure that _he_ was alright, if he were being honest. He was at a complete loss as to what to do. Nothing seemed good enough. But he didn’t argue. He just put his arm around Aziraphale again. 

“Perhaps… perhaps you should put on some clothes, dear,” Aziraphale said. 

He looked down to see that he was only wearing his pants and nothing else. In all the turmoil, he’d completely forgotten. 

“You’re probably right. Wouldn’t want to give the coppers a show, would we?” he said in an attempt at levity. Aziraphale gave a small smile and Crowley sobered. “Will you come with me? I don’t want you out of my sight.”

Aziraphale nodded and got to his feet. Crowley stood beside him, took his hand, and led him to the bedroom. Aziraphale perched on the side of the bed while Crowley dressed himself hurriedly, anxious to get back to Aziraphale - even though he was only a few feet away. 

He’d just buttoned his trousers when there was a knock at the door. Both he and Aziraphale jumped at the sound. 

“Metropolitan Police,” came a familiar voice from the other side of the door. 

“Thank fuck,” he muttered, then took Aziraphale’s hand and squeezed it. “You go sit. I’ll let them in.”

Aziraphale nodded and went to the couch. Crowley watched him go, then took a couple of deep breaths before he opened the door. Standing in the stairwell were a male and female detective - the same two detectives who had come to the shop for the initial complaint a couple of weeks ago. Crowley couldn’t remember their names, but the man was tall and lanky with a scruffy beard, almost unkempt looking, and the woman had curly hair surrounding a plain but kind face. 

“Mr. Crowley?” the male DI said. “I’m DI Chamberlain, we met a couple of weeks ago. This is my partner, Hastings.”

“Yes, I remember you both.”

“Can we come in?”

“Of course.” Crowley stepped out of the way and let them come in. On the couch, Aziraphale had started to cry again, so Crowley went to him, sitting gingerly and putting an arm around him. 

“Mr. Fell,” DI Hastings said, perching herself on the armchair near Aziraphale. “I’m DI Hastings. Do you remember me?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Can you tell me what happened?”

Haltingly, through tears, Aziraphale told her about waking up early and deciding to go downstairs to work on his book. His voice steadied as he went, and Crowley rubbed his back soothingly, feeling wretched. 

“So I kissed Crowley goodbye, then went to the door to open it. When I did, I saw… I saw…” He couldn’t finish and broke down into tears again. Crowley pulled him back into his arms and let him cry into his chest. 

“Were you awake?” Chamberlain asked Crowley, his tone gruff. 

“I was not. I was asleep until I heard the screams.”

“And you came running.”

“Of fucking course I did,” Crowley snapped. 

Hastings was patting Aziraphale’s knee comfortingly. “Have there been any other messages or calls?” she asked Crowley. 

“None that I’m aware of. Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale shook his head against Crowley’s chest and sat up. “None that I know of, either. But we haven’t checked the shop’s email since Wednesday. We don’t check every day.”

“We’ll check it,” Chamberlain said, gruff as always. Crowley was beginning to dislike him, but swallowed it. 

“Has anything changed?” Hastings asked. “Anything that might have prompted the stalker to lash out?”

“Yeah, we announced our engagement Saturday night.”

“That’s probably what did it,” Chamberlain said. 

“Oh, do you fucking _think_?”

Chamberlain ignored him. “I notice you upgraded security. Did you happen to get cameras?”

“No,” Aziraphale said. “I didn't think they were necessary.”

“Well, there seem to be a lot of reporters out front. Perhaps one of them saw something.”

Crowley felt mixed relief and dread. It was entirely possible that one of the paparazzi had seen something, and that was good. But there was no way to keep this from them now, and that could make things _worse_. Shit. 

“We’ve got an officer out there, talking to potential witnesses,” Chamberlain said. 

“Well, what _else_ are you going to do?” Crowley demanded. “Because it seems like you’ve done fuck-all to stop this to this point.”

“Mr. Crowley, I know you’re upset…”

“You’re goddamn right I’m upset! This bastard got _inside_! We had security on that door, and he still managed to get in! There was nothing to stop him from coming inside and making good on his threats! I’m bloody damn _terrified_ and you lot have done _nothing_!”

“I know it seems to you like we’ve done nothing, but I assure you, we’ve been giving this case all its due diligence…”

“Well you wouldn’t know it from our fucking end! This psycho should have been caught two weeks ago!”

“We’re going to catch him,” Chamberlain said, unruffled by Crowley’s ire. It only served to make Crowley angrier. 

“You say that, but that's what you said two fucking weeks ago! Are you going to keep saying it and saying it while nothing gets done until some sick bastard hurts my fiance?!”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said quietly, and Crowley turned to look at him. His eyes were red and wet, with a pleading look on his face. “Please, darling. Not now.”

That took the wind out of Crowley’s sails. He felt himself deflate a little bit, sighed, and leaned over to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he turned back to the detectives. “What do you plan to do?”

“We’re processing the scene at the moment. Taking photographs of everything and dusting for prints.” 

“We’ll need your prints to rule you out,” Hastings said. “Both of you.”

“That’s fine,” Crowley said. “What else?”

“As I mentioned, we’ve got an officer talking to the reporters, to see if they saw anything. Hopefully, that will net us a description.”

“We’d also like to talk to the press a bit. It’s our belief that the public knowing about this may help.”

“You don’t think it will make everything _worse_?”

“We believe that if public attention is on you, the culprit is less likely to be able to act.”

That made sense, although Crowley didn’t like the idea of increased press attention one bit. He looked at Aziraphale, who still looked distressed, but nodded. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed. 

“What do we do in the interim?” Aziraphale asked. 

Hastings said, “Do you have somewhere else to go for a few days?”

“Yes,” Crowley said at once. “We can stay at my flat.”

“I’d do so. At least for a little while.”

“That’s no problem,” Crowley said. “We’ll pack a bag as soon as we’re done here. Will you be providing some protection?”

“Unfortunately, the only thing we can do would be to take him into protective custody,” Hastings said apologetically. 

“I don’t want that,” Aziraphale said firmly.

“We can put another patrol in the neighborhood,” Chamberlain offered, not unkindly. “But we can’t do much more than that.”

“Fine. I’ll just hire more security.”

“That’s probably wise.”

“What about the shop?” Aziraphale asked. 

“That’s up to you. But if it were me,” Hastings said, trailing off.

“Yes?”

“I’d close for a couple of days. Maybe a week. At least until you can get a better security detail in place.”

Aziraphale nodded and wiped at a tear. 

Hastings put her hand back on Aziraphale’s leg. “For now, you should go to Crowley’s flat for a while. A couple of days. At least.”

“We’ll be in touch if anything changes,” Chamberlain supplied. 

Aziraphale sniffed. “I suppose that’s all we can do.”

“We’re going to catch this person, Mr. Fell. We’re going to put him away for a long time.”

“I believe you,” Aziraphale said with a wan smile. 

Crowley wasn’t sure he was able to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a new twitter! come scream at me! @caedmonfaith


	30. Chapter 30

The detectives stayed for another couple of hours, gathering evidence, interviewing witnesses, setting Crowley’s teeth on edge. The paparazzi had only been able to give a vague description: white male, stocky and wearing dark clothes. But they hadn’t snapped a photo. Crowley was frustrated that they could take a photo of him and Aziraphale simply _breathing_ but couldn’t get a photo of a criminal breaking into their flat. But at least they’d been able to give _some_ description, he figured. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. 

While the DIs were interviewing people and doing their job, Aziraphale had tried to call Tracy and Newt to tell them what had happened. But as soon as Tracy picked up the phone, he’d dissolved into tears again, and Crowley had had to gently take the phone from his hand and explain everything to her. She’d been understandably upset and worried, and had made Crowley swear to take care of Aziraphale and not let him out of his sight. It was a promise Crowley was happy to make. She’d also offered to call Newt, and Crowley thanked her kindly before he rang off and put his arms back around Aziraphale. 

When he got the impression that the investigation of the flat was winding down, he gently encouraged Aziraphale to go into the bedroom with him and pack a suitcase. He’d halfway expected Aziraphale to argue, but he offered no resistance. He packed a week’s worth of clothes to go along with the three changes of clothes he already had at Crowley’s, and Crowley figured that was enough to be getting on with. He zippered the bag closed and turned to Aziraphale.

“Ready, angel?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wet, but he looked determined. “Yes, I’m quite ready.”

Crowley took his hand, squeezed it, and went out into the flat to find Shadwell and give him the bag. 

Getting out of the building was an ordeal. Word had spread about what had happened and suddenly it seemed as if every reporter in London was in front of Aziraphale’s shop and flat. It was so bad that Shadwell declared that Crowley couldn’t drive and they would have to ride to Crowley’s flat in the back of a limo. He also called additional bodyguards to help. Crowley didn’t care. He’d leave his car on fucking Alpha Centauri and spend millions to keep Aziraphale safe, if that’s what it took. 

The bodyguards did their best to clear a way for them to get to the car unmolested, but there was only so much they could do. There was a bodyguard in front of and behind them as they made their way to the car parked just on the street. Crowley said nothing as they pushed through the crowd, his arm around Aziraphale protectively, the reporters screaming and flashbulbs going off everywhere. As soon as they made it to the car and got inside, the car took off for Mayfair. Aziraphale was stoic, his tears now silent, and Crowley just sat beside him, holding his hand, feeling wretched. 

They hadn’t gotten very far when Crowley’s mobile rang. He looked at it out of habit and saw that it was Anathema. For a second, it just rang in his hand while he debated on answering. 

“Go ahead, dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice quiet. “She needs to know.”

Crowley just looked at him for a quick moment, helpless, then pressed the green button and raised the phone.

“Hello.”

“Crowley! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. 

“What the hell is going on?”

He looked over at Aziraphale, who was staring out the window. “Someone left a death threat for Aziraphale and a bloody baby doll outside his door while we were sleeping.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh, shit is right.”

“Is he alright?”

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale again. “Physically, yes. But he’s shaken up. We both are.”

“Yeah, no, of course you are. What are you going to do?”

“We’re going back to my flat. Gonna lay low for a while. Stay there for a few days.” _Forever_ , he thought. Now that this had happened, he had no intention of letting Aziraphale back in that flat ever again. 

“You can’t go there, Crowley. It’s under construction.”

 _”Fuck_ ”, Crowley said. He’d completely forgotten. 

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked, looking up from the window.

“The flat is being remodeled. It’s pretty much uninhabitable right now.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

“Anathema, what hotel in the city has the best reputation for security?”

“Probably the Savoy.”

“Book us in there for the next week. We may need more or less, but that’s a good start.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Honest to Christ, I don’t know right now, Anathema. My mind is a fucking jumble.”

“That’s totally fair. You let me know. I’ll go book you in now, and the suite will be ready by the time you get there.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Take care of each other.”

“Will do.”

She rang off and Crowley looked up to say, “Shadwell, take us to the Savoy.”

“Aye,” Shadwell said, then instructed the driver to make a left. 

“Ever been to the Savoy, angel?”

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“It’s very nice.”

“I’m sure it is, dear.”

They were quiet a moment, holding hands in the backseat of the car, but Crowley’s thoughts were loud. He couldn’t make much sense of them, couldn't even sort them out or name the things he was feeling, and it seemed at the moment, he was being held together emotionally by sellotape. It felt like he was about to fracture all over… but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. He had to hold it together for Aziraphale. He owed his love that much. 

He latched onto the first thought that didn't make him feel like he was going to break down. “If Anathema got a google alert, that means my Mum is going to get one, too.”

“Oh, you should ring her, then,” Aziraphale said. “I’d hate for her to get an alert and be afraid for you.”

“Or you,” Crowley said. “But you’re right. Do you mind if I call her?”

“Not at all, darling.”

 _Darling_. He’d called him darling. It was a ray of light in Crowley’s current darkness. 

“I love you,” he said, squeezing his hand. 

Aziraphale gave a weak smile. “I love you, too.”

Crowley squeezed his hand again and dialed his mother’s number.

~*~O~*~

The ride to the hotel was quiet after Crowley rang off with his mother, with neither Aziraphale or Crowley saying much. For Aziraphale’s part, he didn’t know _what_ to say. His mind was a jumble, as Crowley had said, and he simply didn’t know what to think. He felt terribly guilty: this was such a nightmare, and he’d brought it down on Crowley. If he’d acted sooner, when this first started, perhaps this wouldn’t be happening. Logically, he knew that it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t shake the guilt.

It felt as if he were in some sort of film, that he was watching all of this happen to someone else. Reality didn’t seem _real_. It was an odd sensation, and one he didn’t like much. 

They drove around to the back of the Savoy, to the private entrance away from the public eye. The other car, carrying the other two bodyguards, pulled in behind them. Once they were parked, Shadwell jumped out of the car and went around to open the back door. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and climbed out. Aziraphale followed. When Aziraphale was standing, Crowley took his hand again and they entered the building as a group. 

The ride to the suite in the service elevator was silent. Aziraphale didn’t dare speak - he was wading through that feeling of unreality again. 

When they arrived at the top floor, they were greeted by a smiling woman in a smart business suit. “Hello, and welcome to the Savoy. My name is Sharon,” she said. “I’m the manager.”

It was as if Crowley had undergone a transformation. Suddenly, he was _on_ and it was like the current drama wasn’t even happening. Aziraphale was amazed at his ability to snap into a persona like that. 

“Hi, Sharon. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having us on such short notice.”

“Oh, it’s our pleasure. I understand you’re interested in upgraded security for your visit?”

The lines around Crowley’s mouth tightened and his hand tensed around Aziraphale’s. But his smile didn’t fade. “That’s right. You came highly recommended.”

Sharon was opening the door to the suite and letting them in. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. We value your privacy and safety above all else. You and your guest -”

“Fiancé,” Crowley corrected. 

“Right, your fiancé - you won’t be bothered.”

“Perfect. That’s perfect.”

“Will you be requiring anything?” she asked, sounding eager. 

“No, I don’t think we will. But we’ll let you know.”

“Very good, sir,” she said. “Please let me know if I can assist you in any way. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Sharon. We will.”

She bobbed her head once, still smiling, and was gone. As soon as she left, the façade slipped a bit and Crowley’s face was anxious again. “Put that in the bedroom, if you will,” he said to one of the bodyguards, indicating Aziraphale’s suitcase. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, fuck,” Crowley swore. 

“What is it, dear?”

“I forgot to get clothes for me. I thought we were going back to my flat and I wouldn't need them.”

“I’ll get them,” Shadwell volunteered. “I’ll go right now, as soon as I get these two situated.”

“Thank you, Shadwell. You’re a good man.”

“Aye,” Shadwell agreed. “I’m going to station Harris and Donovan by the door while I’m gone. The three of us will rotate, so there’s always at least one person at the door.”

“Thank you, Shadwell.”

“Yes, thank you, Shadwell,” Aziraphale echoed. 

“You’re welcome. Come on, lads. Let’s give them some privacy. Crowley, I’ll be back within ninety minutes with a suitcase. Is there anything in particular you need?”

“No, just a few changes of clothes. Oh - and get my Takamine.”

“Aye. I’ll be back.”

“Very good. Thank you, Shadwell. We’ll see you when you get back.”

Aziraphale mumbled something, he wasn’t sure what, but the bodyguards were gone.

Once they had left, he expected for Crowley’s façade to disappear entirely, but it didn’t. He still wore a brittle smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The sight of that smile _hurt_. He knew Crowley was trying to be upbeat and positive for his sake, but he hated it. Crowley was suffering and scared, too, and Aziraphale wanted to make it better. He wanted Crowley to make _him_ better. But he had no idea what to say or do. 

“Let’s look around, angel, shall we?” he said, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand and smiling that brittle, manic smile. Aziraphale just nodded. 

The suite was very nice, decorated all in neutral tones, and it was a bit like a small, posh flat. There was a comfy-looking lounge, a room that looked like a study, and an elegant dining room. The bedroom was the centerpiece of the suite and was stunning, featuring a large canopy bed that dominated the room. They peeked into the ensuite to see that it was gorgeously decorated and boasted a huge shower _and_ an enormous tub. 

“Wow,” Crowley said. “Maybe I should send Pepper a picture of this bathroom and tell her to do ours just like it.”

“That would be nice,” Aziraphale said, for lack of anything better to say. 

They walked back out into the bedroom and Aziraphale went to the bed, perching on the side of it, suddenly very, very tired. Crowley seemed to be a bundle of nervous energy, however, still slightly manic. He paced the floor, just as he had at his flat a couple of weeks ago, and the only difference now was that he didn't look angry. Aziraphale watched with concern. 

“Right,” Crowley said, clapping his hands together as if deciding something. “What to do. What to do. Well, the first thing we need to do is call Pepper - for real - and see what she can do to speed things along. I’ll offer her more money if she’ll be able to get it done for us within a week or so. We could stay here at this hotel for a week, though, don't you think?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Great. That seems reasonable. I’ll do that. Then, next, we’ll see to security. Actually, that should probably be first. But I know you’re going to want to go back to the shop sooner rather than later, and we’ll need to get you at least a couple more bodyguards. I’ll ask Shadwell when he gets back if he has any candidates or if we need to hire from outside. But don't worry, angel. I won’t put you with someone you won’t click with.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said quietly. It appeared Crowley didn't notice and kept pacing. 

“I guess I should let the band know what happened. I’ll send out a group text in a few minutes.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said a little louder. Crowley kept pacing. 

“I should also call Anathema back at some point. The press has the story and I feel like we’re going to have to make a statement --”

“Crowley, _stop_ ,” Aziraphale said in a loud and firm voice. 

Crowley froze, looking at Aziraphale with a shocked expression. 

“Come here, darling,” he said, patting the bed beside him.

Crowley looked hesitant for a minute, as if he were going to argue, then he came over and sat down a few inches from Aziraphale. Aziraphale reached up and gently removed Crowley’s glasses, setting them to the side on the table. Then he turned back to Crowley, taking in his love’s wide, golden, bloodshot eyes, and pulled him into a hug.

Crowley was stiff for a moment, but Aziraphale didn’t release the embrace, and Crowley eventually relaxed, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale and burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale let his eyes sink closed. 

There was a sniff in his shoulder, then another, then a sob and Crowley finally broke. The next thing Aziraphale knew, Crowley was sobbing wretchedly into his neck, crying as if the world were ending. He shook in Aziraphale’s arms, trembling with emotion, and Aziraphale felt himself start to cry, too. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I’m so fucking sorry,” Crowley cried, clutching at Aziraphale for dear life. 

“Shh, darling. It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay! It’s not! You’re in danger and it’s all my fault!”

“How is it your fault?” 

Crowley didn't seem capable of answering right away. “I wanted to protect you from all of this, from the scary shit and what did I do? I brought it down on your head.”

“Crowley, this is in no way your fault.”

“It _is!_ None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. I’m toxic.”

Aziraphale pulled away to look at Crowley’s face. His eyes were red, his cheeks were wet, and he looked absolutely grief stricken. Aziraphale couldn't stand to see him like that, so he pulled him back into a hug. 

“Crowley, my love, it is _not_ your fault that one of your fans is a madman. That’s ridiculous. It’s simply not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley sobbed. “I’m so sorry. You must hate me.”

“I could never hate you, darling. I love you.”

He rambled on, not making much sense, and Aziraphale just held him and rocked him, much the same way Crowley had held him and rocked him a couple of hours ago. He stroked his hand up and down Crowley’s back, as comforting as he could. His other hand stroked Crowley’s hair, and he whispered reassurances through his own tears. 

“It’s alright, Crowley. I’m alright. I’m fine. I know you won’t let anything happen to me. I’m safe. You’re safe. We’re going to be alright.”

“I should have never started a relationship with you. I should never have sucked you into this life. It was too good to last,” Crowley sobbed. “I should have known better. It was too good to last.”

“Wait a minute,” Aziraphale said, pulling back again, his own tears forgotten. “What do you mean by _that_?”

Crowley couldn’t look at him. He kept his head bowed, his hair hiding his face, and it swayed with his motions. “It was too good, too perfect. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you. I don’t deserve you.”

“I’m not going _anywhere_ , Crowley,” Aziraphale said firmly. 

“But you should. You should run away from me as fast as you can. I’m poison, and my love for you is going to get you killed.”

Aziraphale gripped him by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Crowley. I want you to look at me and listen. Can you do that?”

Crowley raised his head slowly, his cheeks shining with tears, and looked at Aziraphale with miserable, red eyes. Aziraphale squeezed his shoulders. 

“It took me four decades to find you, Anthony Crowley. Over forty years. I had given up on _ever_ meeting Mr. Right, but then I met _you_. You're everything I ever wanted - and everything I _never knew_ I always wanted. Alright? I love you, and I’m not letting anyone take you from me. Do you hear me? I refuse to let this person ruin the happiness I’ve found.”

Twin tears fell from Crowley’s eyes. “Angel…”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. We’re going to fight this, Crowley. And we’re going to win. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you and I - we’re on _our_ side. The entire world can be against us, but as long as we’re a united front, there is no person, force, or group that could ever tear us apart. Heaven and hell couldn't do it.”

Crowley just looked at him for a minute, the tears still falling. “If I were any sort of man, I would let you go to keep you safe. But I'm not. I’m too weak and too selfish. I have to keep you.”

Aziraphale ran a hand down Crowley’s cheek. “I wouldn’t go, even if you tried to set me free. I chose this - I _choose_ this, Crowley. I choose _you_ , and I’ll continue to choose you every single day of the rest of our lives. That’s what marriage is. This person isn’t going to get to me, and even if he did, it would be worth it to be with you.”

“I’m not worth that, angel.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Crowley’s. “You are to me.”

They held each other for some time, both of them sniffling, the tears still falling occasionally, until with a big sniff, Crowley sat upright and opened his eyes. Aziraphale opened his eyes to see Crowley was wiping his cheeks.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I had a moment.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling. I think we both needed that. Are you alright?”

Crowley nodded. “I’m alright. I just… I’m scared. I’ve never been this scared in my whole fucking life.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I’m scared, too, in a way. But I have faith in you. You’re going to keep me perfectly safe. You’d never let anything happen to me. I know that.”

“But what if something _does_ happen?”

“Then we’ll deal with that then. But I know I’m safe. I do, Crowley. I trust you to keep me that way. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, pushing an errant strand of Crowley’s hair behind his ear. “No more talk of us separating, though. Alright? I _wouldn’t_ be alright if you did that. Promise me.”

“I promise. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just kiss me.”

Crowley leaned forward to kiss him and Aziraphale met him halfway. The kiss was sweet, soft, and spoke endless volumes. 

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now, will you lay here and hold me for a while? Until Shadwell gets back with the clothes and guitar? This morning has been quite exhausting, and I feel the need to be held.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only five more chapters and an happily-ever-after left!


	31. Chapter 31

_Wednesday, 1 September_

They spent the next couple of days holed up at the Savoy, never leaving the suite, and Aziraphale tried to be a good sport about it. This was for his protection, all of it, and he was deeply grateful that the people around him cared so much about keeping him well. But he couldn't help but feel a bit as if he were in a gilded cage - a beautiful, elegant prison cell. He was very used to going and doing as he pleased, and now he couldn’t leave the room. It chafed, but he did his best to grin and bear it. 

He wasn’t alone in his confinement. Crowley never left his side, not even for a moment. Every second that Aziraphale spent in the suite, Crowley was with him. He might have worried that they’d get sick of each other, but so far, that hadn't been the case. If he needed some time alone, he would simply pull out one of the books Tracy had sent to keep him sane and Crowley would get his guitar and go to another room to play and write. So far, he’d read through a book and a half, and he knew that Crowley had written two songs. 

They never stayed far apart for long, though, before they were back together, where they most loved to be. It made Aziraphale look forward to when they were finally living together more than he already had been. 

Speaking of moving in together… Crowley had done as he’d said and called Pepper to ask about speeding up the renovation process. She’d been sympathetic and said she’d be able to let them move in in about ten days. Aziraphale had both sighed and smiled when Crowley had told him that - he was itching to get back to some semblance of normal and knew quite well that he’d never be sleeping in his own flat ever again. To be perfectly honest, he never wanted to. Crowley’s home was his home now, and he knew it. Truth be told, he was _happy_ about it. It wasn’t how he’d hoped to move in together, but he’d take it. 

He was sitting on the couch late on Wednesday afternoon with a good book. Crowley was in the bedroom playing his guitar and writing a song. It was pleasantly cozy, and for the first time in a few days, Aziraphale felt some sense of peace. He knew he wouldn’t be _entirely_ peaceful until the person who was after him was caught, but he’d take what small moments of calm he could get. 

From the bedroom, Aziraphale heard Crowley’s phone ring, but he didn’t pay it any mind. Crowley got multiple calls a day. He just went back to his book with a little smile. He looked up, though, when Crowley came into the lounge with the phone to his ear. 

“You busy, angel? It’s the DIs. They have updates for us.”

Aziraphale closed his book hurriedly, heart in his throat, and indicated for Crowley to sit beside him. Crowley did so and put the phone on speaker. 

“Okay,” he said. “We’re both here.”

“Very good,” Hastings said. “First, we should ask - have there been any more incidents?”

“None that we’re aware of,” Aziraphale said. “We haven’t left the suite.”

“That’s good.”

“You said you had an update for us?” Crowley said, his voice a little urgent. 

“We do, although not much of one. We finished processing the scene and found two fingerprints. We ran them through our computers but we didn't get a match. We’re going to run them through Interpol’s database, but that will take a few days. Aziraphale, you said that you’d heard this person’s voice, and they spoke with a British accent?”

“Yes, he did. Well, I assume it was a he,” he said quickly. “They _sounded_ male. It was a deep voice.”

“The description we got from the paparazzi was for a male, so that seems most likely,” Chamberlain said. 

“Have you got anything else?”

“We found an empty can of red spray paint in a nearby dumpster and processed it for prints, but got nothing. Still, the can is a good lead. We’re looking to track it back to the shop it was purchased from and hopefully find footage of the culprit.” 

That sounded promising to Aziraphale, and he gave Crowley a smile. Crowley still looked grim, however. 

“What else have you got? What about the doll?”

“The doll seems to be a dead end. We think he either had it already or bought it from a second hand shop. It’s rather old.”

Crowley sighed and Aziraphale put his hand on his thigh to comfort him. 

“Do you have anything else for us?”

“Just a couple of questions. When do you anticipate going back to work, Mr. Fell?”

“Please, call me Aziraphale. And I’d like to go back quite soon. No later than Monday.”

“We’re looking to have the security upgraded,” Crowley explained. “To add some video cameras.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Hastings said approvingly. 

“How long are you going to stay at the Savoy?”

“Until renovations are through at the flat. Probably another seven days or so.”

“Okay.”

“Why?”

“Because we’d like to keep tabs on you as best we can,” Chamberlain said. “We can protect you better if we know where you are.”

“Let me ask you something,” Crowley said. “We’re supposed to go to a charity gala in a few days. My instinct is to cancel. What do you think?”

Aziraphale cut his eyes at Crowley. “It should be noted and factored in that I very much _want_ to go to the event,” he said. Crowley’s jaw was a mulish line. 

“I don’t know. There will be throngs of people and security there, and this person has never acted so far unless Aziraphale was alone or nearly alone. I think he’d be hesitant to make a move when he is surrounded by people.”

Hastings spoke up. “I’d play the next few days by ear. If you don’t have any more incidents and you’re willing to be guarded more closely, I think it would be fine, safety wise.”

“But it might aggravate the stalker if he sees you together,” Chamberlain pointed out. 

“Yes, that’s true. He could lash out after. But as far as your actual safety at the actual event, I think that would be alright.”

“Thank you both,” Aziraphale said. He hoped that would be enough to persuade Crowley to let him go. 

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can do?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who said, “No, I can’t think of anything else at the moment. Just keep us updated.”

“We will. And will you please let us know if and when you decide to go back to work - or to the gala?”

“Yes, of course we will.”

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

Crowley pressed the red button to end the call and sat back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” Aziraphale asked, stroking his arm. 

“I had hoped to get better news than this,” he sighed. 

“Yes, well, I had, too. But I suppose any progress is good progress, right?”

“I suppose so. But I don’t think we should go to the gala.”

“But Crowley…”

“No, angel, I really don’t think we should.”

“Our absence will be conspicuous.”

“I coudn’t give a fuck.”

“You’re supposed to perform.”

“Still not giving a fuck.”

“But I’ve been so looking forward to it,” Aziraphale pouted a little. 

“There will be other events. Dozens of them. And we’ll go to every one you want to - after this bastard is caught.”

“But you heard Hastings say she thought it would be safe.”

“And _you_ heard _Chamberlain_ say that he thought it would aggravate the stalker.”

“You don’t even _like_ Chamberlain,” Aziraphale harrumphed. 

“I don’t have to like him to think he’s right.”

Aziraphale harrumphed again. Then he said, “Well, if it _were_ to spur the stalker into acting, wouldn’t that be a good thing? It would give the police more opportunities to catch him.”

“You’re reaching, sweetheart,” Crowley said tiredly. 

Aziraphale sulked. He _was_ reaching, but he didn’t want to give this person power over his life. 

“I think I have a compromise. Why don’t we say we’ll still go - for now. But if something else happens between now and then, we’ll back out.”

Crowley seemed to consider that, then said, “Yeah, alright, I’ll agree to that. But you have to stick with security at the event, and you have to promise not to pout if we have to back out.”

“I promise. To both things.” Aziraphale fought the urge to wiggle victoriously. “Good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose,” Crowley said, his voice strained, and he sighed again. 

Aziraphale’s brow knitted in concern. “Are you alright, darling?”

“I’m fine,” he said with a false smile. 

“You’re not. Talking to the detectives has you worried, doesn’t it?”

“I - yeah. I’m a bit keyed up.”

Aziraphale stroked his arm. “What can I do to ease your mind?”

“I honestly don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t the faintest idea.”

He glanced at the clock. It was 5:45. “I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we order some room service to be delivered in an hour or so, and in the interim, we’ll have a bath.”

Crowley looked surprised. “A bath?”

“Yes, a nice bubble bath.”

“Together?”

“Yes. I thought I saw some bath salts and things in the ensuite.”

“I haven't had an actual bath since I was a child.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, then, it seems you’re overdue. Would you like to call in the order and I’ll run a bath for us?”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Surprise me.”

“Okay…”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Go on, order the food and come meet me in the ensuite.”

“Alright.”

He pressed one more kiss to his lips, he couldn’t help it, then got up to go to the ensuite. He started the water in the enormous bathtub, then went to the basket nearby to select some products. He poured two caps full of some rose scented bubble bath, then a scoop of lavender bath salts, thinking the aroma may be soothing to Crowley. Once the tub was filling nicely with bubbled, scented water, he made sure that the two bathrobes were nearby, as well as a couple of towels, then stripped out of his clothes. He was just sinking into the water with a groan of pleasure when Crowley came in. He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, to watch Aziraphale with wide eyes. Aziraphale grinned wickedly. 

“What are you waiting for?” he asked in a teasing tone. “The water will get cold if you dawdle. Get naked.”

“Absolutely,” Crowley said, then started to disrobe. Aziraphale watched him covertly, a smile playing at his lips, enjoying the sight of every inch of Crowley’s body as it was revealed. He was pleased to see, when Crowley shed his pants, that he was half hard already. Good.

Once he was naked, he looked unsure. “Um, how do I… Where do I go?”

Aziraphale smiled and indicated the space right in front of him. “Come sit between my legs, beloved.”

Crowley swallowed and his cock twitched, but he obeyed. Carefully, he climbed into the tub and settled between Aziraphale’s spread legs. Aziraphale adjusted a bit to make room for Crowley, mindful of the water level. The bubbles were up to the edge of the tub, covering their shoulders, and Aziraphale used his foot to switch the water off. Then he wound his arms around Crowley’s chest and nuzzled his ear. 

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked in a low voice. “Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Is the water too hot or too cold?”

“No. S’perfect.”

“Good. I’m glad. Just lay back against me and relax, dear,” he said, stroking Crowley’s skin lightly under the water. “Let the concerns of the world fall away. There’s nothing to think about but you and me, here together, in this tub. That’s all that matters.”

Crowley sighed and relaxed a little into Aziraphale’s arms, leaning his head back against Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale smiled and kissed his hair, then started tracing his fingers up and down Crowley’s arms underwater. 

“What did you order to eat?”

“I got us chicken with some kind of cream sauce and asparagus. You like asparagus, right?”

“I do.”

“Good. I think I ordered us some dessert, too, but I was anxious to get in here to you.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “That’s quite alright. I was eager for you to join me, too.”

They were quiet a little while, the only sound being the hiss of the bubbles popping. Aziraphale closed his eyes and basked in the moment, letting the comfort soak into his very bones. 

“Do you know what I keep thinking about?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“What’s that, angel?”

“I keep thinking of us a year from now, when we’re married and living together and all of this is a memory. I think about coming home from work and kissing you hello, then we work together to make dinner. I think about us going to awards shows and galas and things together. I think about you on tour, and me coming to join you. I think about our _life_ together, and it makes me so happy.”

“It makes me happy, too, angel. I’m just worried my life will be too much for you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that my life isn’t quiet. It’s actually very raucous, and you’re used to a quiet, simple life. I’m afraid you’ll hate it.”

“Our life together isn’t going to be quiet, darling. Not all the time. Nor is it going to be raucous all the time. It’s going to be a blending of the two of them - enough activity to keep you from going mad, and enough quiet domesticity to keep me feeling grounded.” 

“You really think so?”

“I really do.”

“Mmm. I can’t wait. I’m so, so ready for it.”

“I am too, darling. I love you.”

Crowley sighed happily. “I love you, too. Speaking of the future, where do you want to go on our honeymoon?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you have something in mind?”

“I’d like to take you somewhere warm, I think, since we’ll be getting married in midwinter. Somewhere tropical. With white sands and frilly drinks.”

“That sounds heavenly, darling.”

“I think I’d like to find us a private beach or something. Somewhere almost deserted, where no one would see us or know us. Where we could lounge around on the beach or the pool all day, and no one would bother us.” 

“I love the sound of that,“ Aziraphale said, rubbing his thumb up and down Crowley’s stomach. “What would we do at night?”

“We’d make love,” Crowley said at once. “But that wouldn’t be exclusively at night. I’d want to make love to you anytime and anywhere. Any time of day.”

Aziraphale slid his hand down to touch Crowley’s cock gently, which stiffened further. “You would?” he asked, teasingly. 

Crowley was suddenly tense, but Aziraphale rather thought it was a good tension. “Yeah. I would.” 

“Tell me about it,” Aziraphale requested, murmuring into Crowley’s ear. “Tell me your fantasy about making love to me on our honeymoon. How does it start?”

“I, uh, I’d be in the cabana, playing guitar, and you’d be laying out by the sea, reading. I’d want to see you, so I’d put the guitar down and go out to meet you.”

Aziraphale used his thumb and fingertips to tease Crowley’s hard cock and pressed kisses to his ear. “Then what?”

“You’d be relaxing in a chair, in the sand, looking so sexy, and I’d have to have you.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d get on my knees in front of you and take your book. I’d close it, and you’d smile at me. Then I’d kiss you and touch you until you were hard.”

Aziraphale wrapped his hand around his cock. “Hard, like you are right now?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. Like that.”

He started to pump. “Then what?”

“I’d pull your cock out and put my mouth on it.”

“I think I’d like that,” Aziraphale said in a low voice, almost a purr. He sped up the motions of his hands. “What would I be doing?”

Crowley’s head flopped back onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You’d be putting your hands in my hair, grabbing it. You’d start talking to me while I sucked you. _Fuck_ , angel, your hand feels so good…”

Aziraphale pumped him harder, pressing little kisses to his cheek and neck and ear. The tension in Crowley’s body grew and he squirmed under Aziraphale’s attentions. He knew his love was getting close. “Is that what you’re thinking about right now? Sucking me?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I’m thinking about sucking your cock. Jesus, angel. I’m getting close already.”

He sped up. “Are you going to come for me?”

“Yeah,” Crowley whined, his hips thrusting a little into Aziraphale’s hand. “Yeah, I’m going to come.”

“Come for me, darling. I want you to give me your release. Come, Crowley. Come for me…”

Crowley cried out, his body rigid, shouting his orgasm. He made little grunting sounds that weren’t close to language, and twitched in Aziraphale’s arms. Aziraphale kissed his shoulder, stroking him, guiding him through, until Crowley pushed his hand away. 

“Stop. I can’t… I can’t take anymore.”

Aziraphale pressed soft, sweet kisses to the side of his head, his cheek, his neck. “How was that, my darling?”

Crowley was boneless, collapsed against Aziraphale. “That was so good, angel.”

He kissed him again. “Good. Maybe we can do it again soon.”

“Just… give me a second and I’ll do it for you.”

“No, darling. Not right now. I just wanted to help you unwind a bit. Did it help?”

Crowley huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’d say I’m unwound.”

Aziraphale kissed his temple. “Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He just held him and stroked his body while he came down from his high, and they talked lightly about small things until all the bubbles had popped and the water had gone tepid. Aziraphale kissed the side of his head again. 

“My dear, I think we should get out, before we turn into prunes.”

Crowley chuckled. “Yeah, alright. But I’d like to do this again sometime. And I really do think I’m going to call Pepper and ask her to install a tub like this.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I’d love that.”

He used his foot to release the water from the tub and they clambered out. They dried each other off, sharing soft touches and playful kisses. Once they were dry, they put on the fluffy bathrobes and went out to the bedroom. 

The food had been delivered while they were in the tub, and there were silver-domed trays sitting in the dining room. Aziraphale was suddenly famished and went over to lift the dome off one of the plates. When he saw the message there, he gasped and dropped the dome with a clatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger, but this one is not so bad! ~~there’s one more cliffie coming up that you’re going to _hate_ me for, but not yet...~~
> 
> Another update on Thursday!


	32. Chapter 32

Crowley tied the belt of the robe, smiling at Aziraphale. “You look pleased with yourself.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “I am, quite.”

Crowley kissed his smile. “Good. Thank you for that. I really do feel better.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Aziraphale said with a wink. Then he took a deep sniff. “It smells like dinner has been delivered.”

“All I can smell is bath salts, but I’ll take your word for it. Are you hungry?”

“I’m famished.”

Crowley kissed him again. “Then let’s go eat.”

They exited the bathroom hand in hand, and Crowley spotted his guitar still lying on the bed where he’d been playing when the detectives called. He gave Aziraphale a kiss and squeezed his hand. “You go on. I’ll put this up and meet you there.”

Aziraphale smiled, squeezed his hand in return, and said, “Okay.” Crowley watched him go appreciatively, then put the guitar away with quick motions. 

He had just closed the lid on the case and was flipping the latches when he heard a gasp and a clatter of metal. “Did you drop something, angel?” he called, heading towards the dining room. 

He found Aziraphale standing by the cart, his hands up as if he’d burned them, all the color drained from his face. Crowley was beside him in an instant. 

“Sweetheart, what is it?”

“It’s - it’s a message,” Aziraphale said, his eyes wide. 

Crowley lifted the dome off the plate, his heart thudding, and saw what Aziraphale had seen - a chicken breast covered with ketchup that wasn’t supposed to be there, and asparagus that had been used to spell out the word “DIE”. It felt as if Crowley had stepped on a live wire, and all his instincts had kicked in. 

He darted to the door of the suite, running out into the hall, startling the bodyguard. 

“Where did he go?” Crowley demanded. 

“Who?”

“The stalker! He was here!” Crowley said urgently. “Did you see him?”

“The only person I saw was the busboy that brought the food.”

“That was him! What did he look like?”

“Older fellow, heavy set. Balding.”

It sounded like the description of the person who had been to Aziraphale’s flat, and Crowley was rooted to the spot. He had no idea what to do. It felt as if every muscle in his body was activated. All he could think of was that he needed to get to Aziraphale as quickly as possible. 

“Stay here,” Crowley said to the bodyguard. “Don’t let anyone in until DIs Hastings and Chamberlain get here, alright? And call Shadwell for backup.” 

“Yes, sir,” he said, and Crowley went back into the suite. 

Aziraphale was sitting down at the table, still stunned, and Crowley rushed to his side. “Angel, are you alright?”

He nodded. “I’m fine. Really. Just a little shaken up.”

Crowley ran his hands along Aziraphale’s shoulders and arms. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aziraphale gave him a wan smile. “I’m fine, darling. I promise.”

“I need to go call Hastings and Chamberlain now. They need to know about this.”

“I agree.”

Crowley took his hand and pulled him to standing. “Come with me. Let’s go call the detectives and put on some clothes.” 

“Yes, I suppose we are rather underdressed, aren't we?” Aziraphale said with a small smile. 

“Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“I’m really alright, darling. Just rattled.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed, grabbing his phone to pull up Chamberlain’s number. “Me, too.”

He called Hastings and Chamberlain while Aziraphale put on some clothes, then put on his own clothes when the call was complete. Once they were dressed, they went to the lounge to wait for the police to arrive. 

They were holding hands on the couch, and Crowley was a ball of anxious energy, barely refraining from jumping out of his skin. The stalker had been in the suite. Could he come back? Would he? Was Aziraphale safe? He’d messed with their food. What on earth would they eat?

Aziraphale broke into his thoughts. “Well, I guess there’s been another incident.”

“Yeah,” he agreed dully. “I suppose there has.”

“I won’t go back on my promise,” Aziraphale said. “I won’t pout about us not going to the gala.”

“What about work? Because I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of you going back to work right now.”

“We can talk about that later, but I’m inclined to agree with you for now. But maybe this is a good thing. The stalker making another move, I mean.”

“How the hell could you _possibly_ think that?”

“Well, it’s like I said a little while ago. If he’s not doing anything, he’s not leaving behind evidence, and the police need evidence to catch him. The more he acts out, the more likely it is that he’ll be caught.”

“Yeah, but when he acts out, he puts _you_ in danger.”

“Well, yes, that’s true,” Aziraphale allowed. “I’m just eager for him to be caught.”

“Angel, you have no idea how anxious I am for that very thing.”

“But we’re going to be okay, Crowley. You and I are going to be fine.”

Crowley jumped when there was a knock at the door. “Metropolitan police!”

He took a deep breath and gave Aziraphale a smile. “I know we will. Let’s go talk to the police and get this sorted.”

~*~O~*~

_Sunday, 5 September_

When the police came, they questioned everyone who had anything to do with the food, from the cooks to the busboys. The food had been fine when it left the kitchen, but no one had known the busboy who had appeared to take it to the suite. The kitchen staff had given a description of the ‘busboy’ that matched what the bodyguard and paparazzi had said - he was a stocky, white male who was balding. But this time, thanks to the hotel’s security, they actually had video footage of the stalker. The footage had been released to the media, and tips had poured in from all over the world. So far, none had panned out. Aziraphale was hopeful, but Crowley was frustrated. He wanted this bastard to be caught _now_. 

In light of the incident, they had been moved to another suite and the hotel had stepped up security in the building. All of Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s food was now delivered by one of the three members of management. Aziraphale was satisfied with that and ate without concern - Crowley watched him take every bite with his heart in his throat. So far, it had all been fine. 

Crowley had called Anathema after the asparagus incident and told her to withdraw him from the gala - that he and Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to attend. She’d called back the next day to tell him that he was contractually obligated to be there, and that she wasn’t able to get him out. Besides that, she pointed out, it wouldn’t look good for him to seem as if he was hiding from the stalker. Crowley had nearly fired her for that, but Aziraphale had placed a gentle hand on his arm and stayed his hand. It had taken a lot of long, long talks before Crowley had finally agreed to go and perform - but he put his foot down about Aziraphale going. Then he’d grumped about the suite for the next couple of days. 

Now here he was, getting dressed to go to the stupid fucking gala, struggling with the stupid fucking tie, and he couldn’t get his stupid fucking brain to calm down. It was spinning so fast it nearly made him sick, but he did his best to push through. He only had to make an appearance tonight, play three songs, and socialize a bit. He had to go be ‘on’ for two and a half hours or so, then he could come back to Aziraphale. But he knew that those two and a half hours would be the longest period of time in his life. 

“Well, now, I do say,” Aziraphale said from the door to the bedroom. “I’ve seen a lot in my time, but I’ve never seen anything quite as sexy as you.”

Crowley gave a small smile. “Hiya, angel.”

“Hello to you,” Aziraphale said, sauntering over with a lascivious look on his face. “My, but you’re gorgeous. It must be a lucky man who holds your heart.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Crowley said, still struggling with his tie. 

“Do you need a hand, dearest?”

Crowley sighed, defeated, and dropped the tie. “Yes, please.” 

Aziraphale smiled and went over to Crowley, pulling at the tie and getting to work on it with efficient movements. ”This is going to be fine, Crowley,” he said, knowing exactly what was going on in Crowley’s mind without being told. 

“But what if it’s not?”

“It will be.”

“What if he finds out I’m not here and comes back? What if he were to kidnap you? What if he were to _hurt_ you, sweetheart?”

“He won’t get near me. Security is beefed up in the hotel, and we have two bodyguards by the door of the suite. He won’t even get close.”

“But what if he _does_?” Crowley insisted, feeling near tears.

Aziraphale finished tying the tie, then smoothed his hands down it. He kissed Crowley on his nose. “He won’t. The only thing that’s going to happen tonight is that I’m going to spend the evening drinking wine with your mother and watching the gala on telly. I’ll probably get her to tell me some embarrassing stories about you. It’s going to be a lovely evening.”

“But Aziraphale…”

“I’ll tell you something else that’s going to happen tonight,” he said in a low voice that made Crowley’s cock twitch, despite his anxiety. 

“What’s that?”

Aziraphale draped his arms around Crowley’s shoulders. “I’m going to get a bit tipsy and when you get back, I’m going to take this suit off of you piece by piece.”

Crowley couldn’t help a little smile at that, and put his hands on Aziraphale’s hips. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. I can’t wait. In fact, while you’re schmoozing with the famous and the fabulous, I want you to be thinking of what you and I will do when you get back to the suite.” 

“Sweetheart, I promise that you’re _all_ I’m going to be able to think about all night.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Only good thoughts. Promise me.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then promise me that anytime you have an intrusive, negative thought, you’ll at least _try_ to think of something else. Like the sex we’re going to have when you get back.”

“If I spend the whole time thinking about sex with you, I’ll offend everyone there with my giant hard-on.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that,” he purred, then kissed him gently. “I love you, darling,” he said against Crowley’s mouth. 

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment. “I love you, too.”

There was a knock at the door and both of the men looked up at the sound. 

“That’ll be Mum.”

Aziraphale kissed him again, sweetly. “Let’s go let her in, then I want you to go have a great time.”

“I’ll go, but I won't have a great time.”

“Try.”

“I will. For you.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale let Crowley open the door to the suite when they reached it, but he was standing right by his side. Lucy Crowley stood there, smiling at them. 

“Hello, Lucy,” Aziraphale said, pleased to see her.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Hello, boys,” she said, stepping into the suite. Crowley closed the door behind her while she embraced Aziraphale and kissed his cheek. “You’re looking well, crumpet.” 

“Thank you, Lucy. So do you.”

She patted his cheek with a smile, then turned to Crowley. “My boy. You look so handsome. I’m afraid to rumple you.”

“You can rumple me, Mum,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale could hear the anxiety in his voice. Normally he would be teasing and playful, but he didn’t seem capable of that now.

“Well, alright, I guess I can hug you,” Lucy said and Crowley gave a weak smile as he hugged his mother. 

“You really do look handsome, sausage,” Lucy said when they parted. Aziraphale allowed himself a minute to look at Crowley, too. He was wearing a slick, dark suit that fit him perfectly and was accented with dark red. Aziraphale had to fight the urge to salivate, looking at him. In front of his future mother-in-law was _not_ the time. 

“Thanks, Mum,” Crowley said, his voice dispirited. It made Aziraphale’s heart ache, but he didn’t know of a single thing he could do except remain upbeat. 

There was a knock at the door and Crowley stepped over to it. On the other side stood Shadwell, dressed in a tuxedo, looking ready for action. 

“Your limo is waiting, sir.”

“Alright. Just give me a minute.”

“Take your time.”

Crowley closed the door again and turned to his mother first. “Thank you for this, Mum. I feel better, knowing you’re here.”

“It’s my pleasure, Anthony.”

Then he turned to Aziraphale, and his eyes were anguished. “Angel…”

Aziraphale reached out and took his hand. “This is going to be fine, darling. I’ve already told you everything that’s going to happen tonight.”

“I still worry.”

“I know, but there’s nothing to do. I’m safe.”

“God, I hope so. You remember the protocol, right? To call for the bodyguards?”

“I do, but I won’t be using it. We’re going to have a quiet evening.”

“Will you answer me if I text you? I’m afraid I’ll try to text you and won’t get an answer and I’ll panic.”

“I’ll keep my mobile right with me. I promise.”

Crowley sighed and pulled Aziraphale into his arms for a hug. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too.”

When he pulled back, Aziraphale gave him a sweet kiss and smiled up at him. 

“Right,” Crowley said, stepping back and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his sunglasses, put them on, and Aziraphale saw it - the minute he was _on_ again. “I’m off. You lot behave.”

“We make no promises,” Lucy said. 

Crowley kissed Aziraphale one more time, quickly, then pressed a quick kiss to his mother's cheek. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“There’s no rush, darling.”

“I love you. Both of you.”

“We love you, too.”

Aziraphale was starting to think he was going to have to push Crowley out when he opened the door and left. Aziraphale smiled until the door closed, then sighed a little when he was gone. 

Lucy put her hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

“I am.”

“I mean it, crumpet. Are you _really_ alright?”

He smiled at her. “I am, really. I’m rattled, of course I am, but I’m doing my best to be strong for Crowley. He’s much more terrified than I am.”

“Yes, I've never seen him quite this anxious before. It’s a mark to how much he loves you.”

“And I love him, too. I hate to see him suffer like this. It’s driving him spare for us to be apart.”

“I know. But when he gets back tonight, you won’t have to be separated for a while, will you?”

“Not until I go back to work, which could be a while.”

She patted him on the shoulder again. “He’ll be alright. Both of you will.”

“I know that, but I’m afraid he doesn’t.”

“Anthony is the type that often requires proof before he’ll believe. But he’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Mothers are always right,” she said with twinkling, golden eyes. “Now come on. Let’s go run up his room service bill.”

~*~O~*~

When they finished dinner in the dining room, they picked up their glasses and the bottle of wine and made their way to the lounge, taking up seats on the couch.

“This is a very nice suite,” Lucy said. “I imagine it hasn’t been a hardship to stay here.”

“It has and it hasn’t,” Aziraphale said. “I’m very anxious to get settled in the flat.”

“So you’re not going back to your flat?”

“No, I think not. Not to stay. I’m just going to move in with Crowley when the renovations are finished.”

“When will that be?”

“Sometime in the next few days, I’m hoping. I’m quite anxious to see it, but Crowley has insisted we stay here. I think part of it is that he wants to surprise me with the finished product.”

“That’s probably accurate,” she said, smiling. “Are you excited to be moving in with him?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I am. It’s not how I would have _chosen_ to move in with him, but I’m not unhappy with the end result.”

“You know, Anthony has never lived with anyone before. Not since he had roommates in uni.”

“He hasn’t?”

“No. I’m telling you that for a couple of reasons… first, I want you to realize how special you are. I don’t want you to think that he’s had a string of serious, broken relationships. He hasn’t. He hasn’t been serious about anyone he’s dated, not in many, many years, and he’s _certainly_ never proposed to anyone.”

“That’s good to know. I’ve never been engaged either. But what’s the other reason?”

“Because he may have a bit of learning to do, living with someone for the first time in so long,” she said with a smile. “I’d just ask you to be patient with him.”

“I think I can do that,” he grinned. “In fact, it’s been quite a good many years since I had a roommate, too, so we’ll be learning together.”

“I think you’ll do fine,” Lucy said with pat to his arm. 

Aziraphale’s mobile went off and he picked up to find a message from Crowley. 

Crowley: _I’m here. About to walk the carpet. How are things? xx_

“What does he say?”

“He’s there and about to walk the red carpet,” Aziraphale answered a bit absently as he typed out a message.

Aziraphale: _Things here are fine. Turning on the TV. I love you xx_

“Shall we turn on the telly?”

“Yes, I think so.” Aziraphale grabbed the remote and aimed it at the television. 

They found the coverage of the gala fairly quickly, and he and Lucy spent the next little while discussing the red carpet fashion. There were loads of ball gowns, and lots of dashing men in handsome suits, but none of them were nearly as beautiful as Crowley. Not to Aziraphale, and he’d bet not to Lucy, either.

They were discussing a particular dress and pouring their third glass of wine when the camera cut to a lady in an evening gown standing beside Crowley, and Aziraphale grabbed the remote to turn the volume up. 

“We’re here with tonight’s headliner, a man who needs no introduction, Crowley. Crowley, how are you tonight?”

“I’m well,” Crowley replied, smiling as if nothing were wrong. Once again, Aziraphale admired his ability to compartmentalize himself. 

“Excellent. Well, there’s so much to talk to you about! First of all, congratulations on your engagement!”

“Thank you,” Crowley said, and his smile now was brighter, a little less forced. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Where is he tonight? Your fiancé?”

“He’s watching from home. He wasn’t able to make it tonight, and he’s very sad to miss it. But he’ll be with me soon.”

“We look forward to meeting him. You and your fiancé have been dealing with a stalker, is that correct?”

The lines around Crowley's mouth tightened. “Yes, we have been.”

“That must be frightening.”

“Well, I have to tell you, it’s not my favorite part about being me.”

“Do you believe the stalker may be watching right now?” she asked. 

“I imagine he probably is.”

“Is there anything you’d like to say to him?”

Crowley looked taken off guard by the question for just a moment, before he set his mouth in a determined line. “Yeah, I would.” He turned to look at the camera. “I know you think you love me, and I know you think that by doing the things you're doing, I’ll come to love you, too. But that’s not going to work. If you want me to love you, you’re best served to leave me and my fiancé alone. Because as of right now, every time you stalk us, you do nothing but stoke my resentment, not my love. Leave us alone.”

“Powerful words,” the interviewer said, clearly pleased to have such a juicy soundbite. “Crowley, we hope you have a lovely time tonight, and we look forward to you performing. Back to you, Jim.”

The camera switched from Crowley and Aziraphale raised the remote to lower the volume, no longer interested. 

“Well,” Lucy said. “That’s sure to get a response.”

“I agree,” Aziraphale said, a frown creasing his brow. “If he wanted to get the stalker’s attention, I think he just did.”

“I’d say so. Do you think he did it on purpose? To stir them into action?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I think he just made a legitimate, heartfelt plea to the man to leave us alone. I just dont think it’s going to work, and I’m concerned it may backfire.”

“Time will tell,” Lucy said. 

“Yes, I suppose it will. Well, what do you say we order another bottle of wine and watch him put on a show?”

“I think that sounds like a lovely idea, crumpet.”

~*~O~*~

Crowley had never been so eager to get the hell out of an event as he was to leave the gala. As soon as his three song set ended, he took a bow, then dashed to the limo to head back to the Savoy. He didn’t bother to text Aziraphale, just sat in the back of the limo, jittery, anxious to get back to the hotel. 

When he arrived, he told the limo driver to stay so it could take his mother home, then went up to the suite. With every step he got closer to Aziraphale, he felt his anxiety spike. He knew he wouldn’t be alright until he got into the suite and saw his love with his own eyes. 

The bodyguards stood aside and Crowley swept into the room, his heart pounding, greeted by the sound of laughter. He nearly collapsed in relief when he saw Aziraphale sitting on the couch with his mother, alive and happy, ruddy-cheeked. 

“Crowley, darling,” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet, coming around to hug him. 

“You’re alright,” Crowley said into his shoulder, hugging him close. 

“Of course I am, dear. I told you I would be.”

Crowley blinked back tears as he pulled back and dragged a smiling Aziraphale into a kiss. He’d just sent his tongue out to seek Aziraphale’s when Aziraphale smiled, breaking the kiss. 

“Darling, your _mother_ is here.”

“Shit,” Crowley muttered. He’d almost forgotten. Aziraphale smirked. 

He released Aziraphale, but kept a grip on his hand. “Hi, Mum. Do you have a good night?”

“We did, a lovely night,” Lucy said, her cheeks pink like Aziraphale’s. Crowley was glad he’d arranged for her to ride to and from the hotel in a limo. She seemed to be a bit tipsy. 

“Good. Thank you for doing this.”

“For spending the evening with my son-in-law? You never have to thank me for that. But I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go, Lucy…”

“Nonsense. I know you’re eager to see each other and I’ll just get in the way.” She picked up her purse and hugged Aziraphale. “Thank you for this evening, crumpet. It was fun. We should do it again.”

“We should. Why don’t we have you and Jack for dinner once we get settled in the flat?”

“Who’s Jack?”

“That sounds very nice, Aziraphale,” Lucy said, both of them ignoring him. She patted Aziraphale’s cheek then came to hug Crowley. “You were wonderful tonight, sausage. I was so proud of you.”

“Thank you. Who is Jack?”

Aziraphale giggled. “I’ll tell you later, Crowley.”

Lucy grinned. “He’ll tell you later. Is the car ready for me?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. You boys look after each other. I love you both.”

“We love you, too, Lucy.”

“Love you, too, Mum.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, then let herself out.

Aziraphale slid over to Crowley and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Hello, my darling,” he said in a seductive voice. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Who the hell is Jack?”

“Your mum’s boyfriend.”

“My mum has a _boyfriend_?” he demanded incredulously. 

“She sure does. She’s known him for quite a while, but they only started dating a few weeks ago.”

“You’re _joking_.”

“I’m not. He was a doctor at the hospital she worked at and they’ve known each other since time out of mind, but never romantically. He was married. But his wife died a few years ago and they ran into each other again. Started dating shortly after.”

“But… why didn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. She told me, maybe she thought that would be enough, that we’re a package deal.”

“I can’t believe she kept a secret.”

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

“Well, I suppose I know what we’ll be talking about on Tuesday. Is she happy?”

“She seems so.”

“I’ll be damned,” Crowley marveled. 

Aziraphale started to play with his tie. “So, are you going to take me to bed?”

“Are you tipsy?”

“A bit. But I told you I would be. Would you like to order another bottle of wine and you can get tipsy, too? Then I’ll get you out of these clothes.”

“Oh, I think I’m _very_ ready to be out of these clothes already. And I’d like your help with that.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Aziraphale said, then grabbed him by the tie and led him into the bedroom with a smirk.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIRTY THOUSAND HITS
> 
> OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, WHAT?!

_10 September, 2021_

Crowley was feeling better than he had in a couple of weeks as they rode in the limo towards Mayfair. Today, they were going to move back into his flat - now _their_ flat - and Crowley was _excited_. He was also nervous. Pepper had sent him daily updates as well as photos, but while Crowley had told Aziraphale what was happening, he hadn’t given a lot of details and hadn’t shown Aziraphale the pictures. He’d wanted to surprise Aziraphale as best he could and Aziraphale hadn’t seemed to have minded, but he now wondered if he’d been doing the wrong thing. What if Aziraphale didn't like the designs he’d approved? What if he hated the colors? What if he detested the new floors or cabinets? He didn’t think that would be a problem, but couldn't help but worry. That worry was fairly small, though, and didn’t dim his excitement. 

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I have a confession to make.”

Crowley turned to him, smiling. “Oh?”

“Yes. I hope you’re not cross, but I went behind your back and made arrangements for a surprise for you. At the flat.”

His eyebrows appeared from behind his glasses. “You have a surprise for me?”

“I do, yes. Think of it as a housewarming gift.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Nah, ah, ah. I’m not telling you. You can see it when we get there. I just hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it, angel.”

“Yes, well, I’m hoping.”

“I have a bit of a surprise for you, too.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips playfully. “My dear, you’ve kept almost the whole thing as a surprise.”

“Yeah, kinda. Not really. You knew what we were doing, you just didn't see the details. But this is something you don’t know about.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Nah, ah, ah,” Crowley mimicked with a smile. “I’m not telling you. You can see when we get there.”

“Oh, you wretch.”

“You love it,” Crowley teased. 

“I admit nothing,” Aziraphale sniffed, making Crowley laugh. Aziraphale smirked at him and Crowley couldn’t help but kiss that smirk off his face. 

“Do you know the best part of this?” Crowley asked. 

“What’s that?”

“Everything in the house is brand new. All the furniture, decorations, all of it. The only things that are the same are the structures.”

“And your studio.”

“Well, yes. But it’s like a brand new home - for _both_ of us. We’re starting fresh… together.”

“Together,” Aziraphale said with a smile, then kissed him sweetly. 

They were still kissing when they pulled up to the building a couple of minutes later. There wasn’t any press around, which Crowley was glad for, so they were able to get out of the car and into the building without a problem. 

“Welcome back, Mr. Crowley,” the doorman said with a tip of the hat. 

“Thank you,” Crowley said, but didn’t stop to make small talk. He was too excited to get Aziraphale upstairs. 

They rode the lift to the penthouse with Shadwell silently, hands held between them, both of them excited and eager. When the lift dinged, they stepped into the corridor to find Pepper standing at the door to the flat, smiling. 

“Ah, you’re here. Right on time.”

“Hello, Pepper,” Crowley said. 

“Yes, hello, Pepper.”

“Hello to you. Are you ready to see what we’ve done?”

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and he squeezed back. “We are.”

“Excellent. Right this way, gentlemen,” she said, then opened the door with a smile. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand one more time, then they stepped inside together while Shadwell waited outside. 

Crowley’s eyes were wide as he looked around at the foyer. It was so _different_ \- but he thought he liked it. The walls were no longer slate grey, but were now a soft, pale yellow, and there was oodles of natural light. All the floors had been replaced so they no longer looked like shining concrete - instead, they were distressed hardwood. The foyer was lightly furnished with a nice table featuring a plant and a wall sculpture. 

She led them into the lounge, which was much, much more cozy looking than before, with new, plush furniture and bookshelves as well as several plants. There weren’t a lot of books on the bookshelves just yet, but Aziraphale’s flat was full to bursting with books - he knew it wouldn't be long before they’d be stacked full. 

Crowley barely looked at the room, though, he was looking at Aziraphale. The angel’s eyes were wide and he let go of Crowley’s hand to step in, looking around. Crowley just watched him for a minute, then when he couldn't stand it, said, “So what do you think, angel?”

“Crowley, I love it.”

“Would you like to see the kitchen and dining room?” Pepper asked. 

Aziraphale spun around to look at her, smiling. “Yes, we would.”

Crowley turned to her, also with a smile. “Lead the way.” 

He took Aziraphale’s hand again as they went to the dining room, which had been completely overhauled. Like the majority of the rest of the flat, it featured warm wood floors, and the dark grey walls had been replaced with deep red and cream. The dining table, chairs, and buffet table all matched and were the same warm wood. There was art on the wall - a still life and some sconces. It felt like a home. Crowley liked it in person much, much better than he had in the pictures - and he’d been impressed with the pictures. 

The kitchen was also completely transformed. The floor here was black and white tile with red accent rugs, and the walls were painted in that same deep red. The only thing that had been kept were the black countertops, but the cabinets had been replaced and were now white. All the appliances were brushed steel, and it was very sleek looking, which appealed to Crowley. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale purred. Crowley just squeezed his hand and smiled. 

“Would you like to see your bedroom and ensuite?” Pepper asked. 

“Yes, please. And I’d like to show Aziraphale his surprise.”

“After _that_ , I’d like to show Crowley _his_ surprise,” Aziraphale said, giving Crowley a broad smile. 

“We can do all of those, in that order,” Pepper said agreeably. “If you’ll come with me?”

They followed her down the corridor to the bedroom, and Aziraphale gasped when she opened the door. The room was dominated by an enormous canopy bed, covered with pillows and a duvet in taupe, gold, and navy blue. The curtains matched, and there were chairs in front of the new fireplace that also matched. There was a chest of drawers for each of them on each side of the room, which matched the bed and bedside tables. 

Pepper smilingly led them into the ensuite, and they looked in. Like the kitchen, the floor here was black and white, but the walls were painted blue. The only thing original to the bathroom was the shower: there was a new countertop with twin sinks and mirrors and a brand new, enormous tub. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale cooed again. “It’s absolutely _perfect_.”

“Good. Are you ready to see your surprise?”

“I - yes. I think so.”

“C’mon,” he said, taking him by the hand and tugging him lightly. 

Pepper led them to the largest spare bedroom and paused there. “Are you ready?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m ready.”

She opened the door and they stepped inside the room that had been remodeled into a library. There were bookshelves on three of the walls, leaving room for the windows, but there was a large desk on the wall closest to the door. Inside the walk-in wardrobe, there was a chair, a table, a lamp, and more bookshelves.

“What do you think, angel?”

“Crowley, I don’t know what to say. My own library?”

“That’s right. Complete with a reading nook in the wardrobe, so you can get away from me if I’m getting on your nerves. And when you take the time to look at the desk, you’ll find that I’ve purchased everything I was told you’d need to repair and restore books. If there’s something else you need that I haven’t provided, I’ll buy that, too. This room was also fireproofed, so you can keep your rare books here.”

“Oh, _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale said, tears in his eyes. 

“Good surprise?” Crowley asked with a lopsided grin. 

“The _best_ surprise.” 

Crowley kissed him gently. “Good.”

Aziraphale sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. “I love you so much, dear.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed Crowley quickly then turned to Pepper. “Is his surprise ready?”

“Just finished it this morning,” she said with a smile. 

“Come on,” Aziraphale said, pulling him out of the room. “You need to see what I’ve done for you.”

Crowley was puzzled when Pepper and Aziraphale led him to the roof access door, but followed anyway, climbing the steps. What he saw when he stepped out onto the roof made him gasp: It was a garden, a lovely rooftop garden that was nearly overpopulated with bushes and trees and plants, with a firepit and some wicker furniture sitting on the gravel roof. It was cozy, beautiful, and Crowley felt tears prick his eyes. 

“Do you like it?” Aziraphale asked, sounding hopeful. “Now you have a plant room outside, as well as inside. I wanted us to have our own private Eden.”

“Angel, it’s gorgeous.”

“Oh, good. I’m so pleased you like it, dear. Good surprise?” he teased. 

“I love you,” Crowley answered. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I love you, too.”

“So all in all,” Pepper said, “You like it?”

Aziraphale was beaming. “I can’t speak for Crowley, but I love it. All of it. It’s exactly what I’d hoped for.”

Crowley turned to face her. “If Aziraphale loves it, then I love it, too. Well done.”

“Thank you. I like to leave satisfied customers.”

“We’re very satisfied.”

“Excellent. I’m happy to hear it. Will you walk me to the door?”

They escorted her downstairs to the foyer, and Crowley released Aziraphale’s hand to offer his. 

“Pepper, we’re exceptionally pleased with your work. We’ll be sure to tell our friends and family about you.”

“Absolutely,” Aziraphale agreed. “Everyone we know.”

“That’s good to hear. You can call me if you have any questions or problems.”

“We will,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your new home.” Then, with another smile, she exited. 

“So what do you think, angel? Does it feel like home?”

“Oh, it does,” Aziraphale said, rhapsodizing. “It really does. I just want to stay here forever.”

“Well, I hope you’ll stay forever, since this is our _home_ ,” Crowley teased. 

“Our home,” Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, Crowley. I’m so happy.”

“Are you really, angel? Because I know you didn’t want to move in yet…”

“It's not how I would have chosen to move in, no. But I’m blissfully happy with the end result.”

Crowley raised his hand and kissed it. “Good. Now, what do you want to do first in your new home?”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled. “Didn’t you say that all the furniture is new?”

“Yes. Every stick of it is brand new.”

“Including our bed?”

Crowley’s eyes darkened. “Yes. Our bed has never been slept in. Are you interested in a nap?” he teased. 

“Not exactly, no,” Aziraphale replied, taking a step closer and running a hand up Crowley’s chest. “I was thinking that maybe we could do something a little more… vigorous.”

“Vigorous, eh?” Crowley said, smirking. “And what _vigorous_ activity did you have in mind, pray tell? Calisthenics?”

“You could call it that,” Aziraphale replied, coy. “Only I hope to be naked.”

“Why, Aziraphale Fell, what on earth kind of calisthenics could you be thinking of that would necessitate us being naked?”

Aziraphale leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’d like you to fuck me through the brand new mattress,” he breathed, then captured Crowley’s earlobe between his teeth. 

Crowley felt his cock throb in his trousers, and he drew a quick, shaky breath. His hand went to Aziraphale’s arse and he squeezed. 

“Would you be willing?” Aziraphale asked, his voice mischievous.

“Sweetheart, I’d fucking love to.”

“Oh, very good,” he said with a wiggle. “Shall we go?”

Crowley started down the corridor, pulling a giggling Aziraphale along behind him. He didn’t stop until he had pulled Aziraphale all the way into the bedroom, beside the bed, then he spun around and dragged Aziraphale into his arms, kissing him eagerly. Aziraphale smiled into the kiss for just a moment, but Crowley didn’t care. He just sent his tongue between Aziraphale’s lips to taste him, grabbing handfuls of his arse and grinding his cock against him. Aziraphale returned the kiss, threading his fingers through Crowley’s hair and holding his head close - not that there was any danger of Crowley pulling away. 

Aziraphale broke the kiss, out of breath, and surprised Crowley when he started licking and sucking Crowley’s neck. Crowley just leaned his head to the side to allow him more room. His hands flexed in Aziraphale’s bum, and he felt Aziraphale sucking a mark into his skin. 

“I want you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, sounding breathless. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

Crowley rolled his hips forward, grinding his cock against Aziraphale’s. “I feel it. Do you feel me?”

“Oh, my darling, I want to feel you _inside_ me,” Aziraphale purred. 

His eyes rolled back in his head. “I want that, too. Fuck, angel. You have no idea how much I want that.”

Aziraphale stopped kissing him suddenly and looked up at Crowley with wide eyes. “I just thought of something. Did they move all our belongings from the old drawers into the new ones?”

“I guess so… why?”

“Because we’re going to need lubricant.”

Crowley went stiff, like he’d been dunked in a vat of cold water. “Shit. You’re right. Shit. Be right back.”

He released Aziraphale and went to the bedside table as quickly as he could and pulled it open in a hurry. He nearly collapsed with relief when he saw the little bottle lying there, and raised it with a smile. 

“Perfect,” Aziraphale said, his smile wicked. “Now get naked.”

Crowley had never been so eager to obey an order in his entire life. He shed his clothes as fast as he could, tossing them haphazardly around the room. When Aziraphale had stripped down to his pants, Crowley was grappling with his shoes and cursing the tightness of his trousers. Aziraphale gave a smile and went to pull down the covers. When he was done with that, he crawled up on the bed and watched Crowley struggle with his tight trousers. His cock was poking through the hole of his tartan boxers and he stroked it as he watched Crowley. 

“You’re not naked,” Crowley pointed out. 

“I’m not,” Aziraphale agreed, watching Crowley struggle with a coy smile. “I know how much you like to undress me yourself.”

“You’re goddamn right I do,” Crowley said, finally freeing his legs. Very quickly, he pulled off his socks so he was clad only in his pants, then as quick as he could, he clambered onto the bed, on his knees. Aziraphale reached for him and they came together in a messy kiss, arms wound around each other and skin pressed against skin. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale breathed when Crowley broke the kiss to set to work on his neck. “Oh, Crowley, I love you so much.”

Crowley didn’t answer, since his mouth was otherwise occupied marking Aziraphale. Once he was satisfied that he’d left a nice bruise - a mark of possession - he went back to kiss Aziraphale’s mouth, his tongue plundering and exploring, his hands gliding and gripping. Aziraphale reached between them and shoved down his black boxer briefs, then wrapped a hand around Crowley’s cock, making him cry out. 

“Does that feel good, dear?” Aziraphale asked, teasing. “Do you like it?”

“You know I do. Fuck.”

“Would you like more? Would you like me to suck you?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “Lay down, beloved.”

It was a wrench to let Aziraphale go, but he managed to lay down on the bed, kicking off his pants, his cock jutting up obscenely. Aziraphale positioned himself so he was kneeling beside Crowley, at his waist, wrapping his hand around Crowley again. He bent and licked Crowley’s cock from the root to the tip and swirled his tongue around the head, making Crowley hiss. Aziraphale gave him a look that could only be described as ‘wicked’, then put his mouth on Crowley’s bollocks and sucked them. 

“Fuck, angel! Fuck!”

Aziraphale sucked first one then the other into his mouth, swirling them around with his tongue, humming happily over them, while he pumped Crowley’s cock with his hand. Crowley brought one hand down to grip his hair the way he liked, but the other went to Aziraphale’s arse, raised in the air behind him. He squeezed and massaged his arse, enjoying the sounds Aziraphale made around him. On a whim, he let go of Aziraphale’s hair to reach for the lube, finding it nearby. Then he slid down Aziraphale’s pants, baring his arse, and slicked his fingers. 

The angel released his bollocks with a pop. “Oh, Crowley, you taste so good. I love to lick you and suck you… talk to me, please.”

“Alright, angel,” he agreed, and Aziraphale gave him a filthy smile before he bent and took Crowley’s cock into his mouth. Crowley groaned, his teeth clenched, threw his head back into the pillows, and used his dry hand to grab Aziraphale by the head. His slick fingers slid down the crease of Aziraphale’s arse to circle his hole. 

Crowley slid a finger into Aziraphale’s arse, making him moan. “Is that good, sweetheart? Do you like that?”

Aziraphale made an ‘mhm’ sound and took Crowley deeper. 

“I love to see you like this, you know. Your mouth on my cock, your arse in the air. You look beautiful like this, and I love it.”

Slowly, he added a second finger to Aziraphale’s arse. “You arse feels so good around me, Aziraphale. I can’t wait to fuck you properly.” 

Aziraphale made another greedy sound that vibrated Crowley just right, then opened his mouth wide to take him even deeper. Crowley just clenched his hair and threw his head back into the pillow. 

“Fuck, angel. Fuck. I’m going to come if you keep that up,” he warned. 

He bobbed his head, Crowley’s cock hitting the back of his throat, making the muffled, garbled sounds that they both loved. Crowley was contemplating coming that way and wondering if he could get Aziraphale off with just his fingers when the decision was taken out of his hands. Aziraphale pulled off his cock, pumping it with his hand, his lips pink and swollen and spit-shiny. “Do you want to fuck me, Crowley?”

Crowley nodded. “Yes. God, yes.”

“How do you want me?”

He thought fast. “Lie down for me,” he said. “I want to watch your face this time.”

Aziraphale placed one more kiss to the head of Crowley’s cock, then scrambled to do as he’d been bid, coming to lie down on the bed. Crowley showered his chest with kisses as he repositioned himself on his knees between Aziraphale’s legs, grabbing the lube and slicking his cock. When he felt he was slick enough, he tossed the bottle aside and lined himself up with Aziraphale’s hole. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, breathless. 

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, my darling.”

Crowley captured his mouth in a kiss and started to push himself forward. Both of them groaned a little when he breached, then sighed into each other’s mouths when he sank into him fully. When he was as deep as he could go, he broke the kiss, although he didn’t pull away. “I love you, angel.”

Aziraphale nodded, eyes wide and mouth open. “I love you, too.”

Crowley kissed him again, sliding out slowly, then back in, feeling Aziraphale cling to his back. They kept kissing for long moments as Crowley slid in and out, gaining speed slowly, fucking him with long, smooth strokes they both enjoyed. Aziraphale whimpered into the kiss and Crowley sped up, until he was forced to break apart for air. 

“You feel so good, Crowley,” Aziraphale purred, his fingertips digging into the skin of Crowley’s back, his legs wrapped around Crowley’s waist. “Oh, my darling, your cock feels so perfect and hits me just right…”

“Your arse is perfect,” Crowley replied, his voice a little rough with exertion. “It’s so fucking hot and tight. Fuck!”

“Harder, dear. Faster. I won’t break. _Fuck_ me, Crowley.”

Crowley obliged, speeding up and hitting harder. He stared into Aziraphale’s blue eyes, willing him to _know_ just how much he loved him. 

“Crowley…. Crowley… oh, God… I’m getting close… Just like that… more.”

“Yes, angel. Yes! I need you to come…”

“I’m close. Oh, God, right there. Just like that. Are you close?”

Crowley nodded, speeding up his thrusts. “I’m close, sweetheart. Do you want me to come in your arse?

“Yes! Please! Fill me with it! Just fuck me harder!”

Crowley put on a burst of speed, grunting with exertion. He felt his orgasm closing in, but did his best to stave it off. He wanted Aziraphale to come first. 

“Angel. Fuck. Angel. I’m close. I need you to come. Please come for me…”

“Here I come, Crowley! Ah! Ah! Here I come!”

Aziraphale cried out, some disjointed syllables that didn't resemble language, and Crowley watched him throw his head back into the pillows and close his eyes in ecstasy. His whole body tensed, his arse tightening around Crowley’s cock, and he felt a hot splash between their bodies. It was good, so good, and Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck, his teeth bared, grunting with every thrust, chasing his release. He didn’t have to wait long before he barreled over the edge into oblivion with a shout. It felt like all the cells of his body were on fire, pulling pleasure from the very marrow of his bones. It was intense - too intense, and he feared he may die if it didn't end soon. At the same time, he never wanted it to end, ever. 

He wasn’t aware of much, gasping for breath, shuddering with aftershocks. Aziraphale still had his arms and legs wrapped around him and his breathing was harsh in Crowley’s ear.

“I love you,” Aziraphale said on a ragged exhale. “I love you so much, Crowley.”

“I love you, too,” Crowley said, his own breathing uneven. 

Slowly, so slowly, he came down from his high and started pressing kisses to Aziraphale’s neck and face. Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a deep, slow kiss, and they kissed languidly until Crowley softened enough to slip out of him. They both moaned in displeasure into each other’s mouth, then Crowley rolled over onto Aziraphale’s side with a groan. He closed his eyes, and he sensed Aziraphale rolling off to get tissues to clean them up. Once that was done, Aziraphale collapsed beside him, in Crowley’s arms, and Crowley used his foot to hook the duvet and pull it overtop of them. Aziraphale sighed happily, putting one arm across Crowley’s chest, and Crowley sighed, too. 

“So what did you think about naked calisthenics?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley laughed. “I have to say, that’s my favorite exercise I’ve ever done.”

“We should make a habit of that,” Aziraphale said, rubbing a circle into Crowley’s chest. 

“I think so,” he agreed, then turned to kiss his angel’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this deposit of fluffy smut! ~~because next chapter, all hell breaks loose~~


	34. Chapter 34

_16 September_

Aziraphale was sitting at the table in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and reading the paper, when Crowley came in, yawning and scratching at the hair on his chest. 

“Mornin’, angel,” he said in a sleepy voice, pressing a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head. He was clad only in his pants, his hair tousled, and had pillow wrinkles on his angled, stubbled face. Aziraphale couldn’t help but watch him appreciatively. 

“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”

Crowley yawned. “I always sleep well with you,” he said, going over to the coffee machine to get it started. Aziraphale just smiled and turned back to his paper until Crowley got his coffee in a mug and came to sit at the table. Aziraphale waited patiently while he drank a bit of it, and watched with amusement as Crowley seemed to bloom when the caffeine hit his system. 

“Is it good?” he asked. 

“Mmm. Black as my soul.”

Aziraphale chuckled and folded his paper. 

“Uh, oh,” Crowley said. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve folded your paper. That means you have something to talk to me about.”

“Or perhaps I’ve just finished with my paper,” Aziraphale said, surprised by how astute he was.

“Are you saying you _don’t_ have something to talk to me about?”

“Well, yes, I do, in fact. But it can wait until you wake up.”

“I’m awake and in a good mood. Now is the opportune time. What did you want to talk about?”

“A couple of things, actually. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait?”

“Nope,” Crowley said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Go ahead.”

“Alright. Very well, then. The first thing… I think we need to chat about packing my flat and moving in here. I’d like to get my books and the remainder of my clothes here in the near future.”

“That’s music to my ears. How do you want to go about it?”

“I don’t really know. I’m not all that eager to return to my flat, really. But it needs to be done.”

“We could hire movers,” Crowley suggested. “There are companies that do all the work for you. All you have to do is direct them where to unpack the boxes.”

“That would be ideal for most things, but there are _some_ things I’d like to pack up myself. Personal effects, you understand.”

“I do. What about the things you don't need? Your furniture and whatnot?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said, considering. “I suppose I could sell it, or perhaps let it go with the flat.”

“When do you want to do this?”

“Soon, I should think. How long would it take to hire movers?”

“We could call today and have someone soon. Today, if you wanted.”

“That soon?”

Crowley gave him a grin. “You forget, angel. I’m filthy rich. Money is very good for greasing the wheels.”

“Well, I hadn’t intended on you paying for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve already spent so much of your money on me.”

Crowley reached over and covered his hand. “Sweetheart, listen to me. We’re going to be _married_ in a few months. It’s going to be _our_ money.”

“That actually leads me to a third thing we need to discuss. But in a minute. For now… I can’t let you spend all of your money on me.”

“Why not?”

Aziraphale made a frustrated clucking noise. “My _dear_...”

“Look, angel. I’ve told you before. I have more money than I could ever spend, and I want to spend it on you. It makes me _happy_ to spoil you. And paying for the movers to pack you up and move you here so you’re finally, completely living with me? I’d gladly pay fifty times what they’re going to charge.”

“But Crowley…”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you tip them.”

“You’re so stubborn. Do you know that?”

Crowley gave a wicked grin. “That’s why you love me. We’ll call the moving company when they open in about an hour. Now, what was your second topic of conversation? You said there were three.”

“Right. Yes,” Aziraphale said, trying to decide which sticky topic to bring up next. Finally, he decided. “I would like to talk to you about a prenuptial agreement.”

Crowley tensed. “Why? Do you think you need one?”

“No, I simply want to protect you.”

“Then no. We don’t need one.”

“Crowley…”

“Prenups are for couples who go into their marriage planning for it to be temporary. That’s not us. We don’t need one.”

“But dear…”

“No, I won’t even hear about it. I’m not marrying you for a short while, Aziraphale, I’m marrying you for the rest of my life. Til death do us part. And it makes me nervous that you’d even bring this up.”

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous. I intend to be married to you until we die, too. But I want to _protect_ you.”

Crowley looked agitated. “Alright, fine. If something happens, if you get tired of me in ten years, you can have half of all my money and the Scotland estate.”

“I don’t want _any_ of your money _or_ the Scotland estate. I just want _you_.”

“Then why the fuck are we talking about this?!”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“I am, too.”

Aziraphale huffed for a moment, irritated. Insufferable. The blasted man was insufferable sometimes. Then he sighed and reached across to take Crowley’s hand. “I really am sorry, darling. I have no desire to ever leave you for any reason. I never want to be apart from you. But I felt compelled to at least offer to sign a prenuptial agreement, if you wanted one.”

Crowley sighed. “I know, you’re right. It’s alright. I appreciate the offer. But I don’t want one. At all.”

“Alright. I won’t bring it up again. I promise.”

“Good. Now, what was your third topic?

“I don’t know if I should say, if you’re already tetchy with me.”

“I’m not tetchy with you. I’m fine. Go ahead.”

Aziraphale stared at his cup of coffee for a second, gathering his nerve. He didn’t quite know how to say what he wanted to say. But finally, he took a deep breath and plowed ahead. 

“I think I’m ready to go back to work.”

Crowley sighed again, his shoulders slumping a bit. “I had a feeling that was what you were going to say.”

“I think it’s time.”

“Please not yet, angel. I’m not ready.”

“Darling, I love you, but I don’t want to be a kept man.”

“You’re not!”

“There have been whispers.”

“By who?” Crowley demanded, bristling. 

“Nothing has been said outright. Just some snide comments in the media.”

“Oh, fuck the media,” Crowley snapped, waving a frustrated hand.

“Darling…”

“No, really. I don’t care what the press thinks. They can fuck off.”

“What about what _I_ think? I have to admit, not working right now has me feeling… some kind of way.”

“Are you unhappy with me?”

“No, darling. Not at all. But I miss work. I miss that sense of independence.”

“Why don’t you make a business out of restoring old books? You could do that right here at home, and I know how much those books sell for. You could make a comfortable living doing that.”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to huff. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Why not? You’d be making money, isn’t that the point?”

“Crowley, my love, I miss my _shop_. I miss Newt and Tracy. That shop has been my home and they have been my family for a very long time. I miss them. Besides that, they depend on me for income.”

He ran his hand through his hair and leaned forward, his eyes plaintive. “Please, angel. Not yet. Please wait until this bastard is caught. After that, you can go back to your shop. I’ll even open you a second location. Hell, I’ll make you into a nationwide chain, if that’s what you want. _After_ this bastard is caught.”

Aziraphale reached across, again, and squeezed his hand. “Crowley, I appreciate your concern. But I’ve thought about it a great deal. I don’t think this person is going to do anything to me. They’ve had loads of chances and have only attempted to scare me. I think that’s all they _want_ to do. But I’m not leaving, no matter what they do. I promise you that.”

“What if the objective _was_ to scare you, but they see that you’re not scaring easily and seek to hurt you? What then?”

“I don’t think that will happen.”

“But it’s a possibility.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Now who’s being stubborn, angel?”

“I am, and I know it. Darling, I’ll do anything you ask of me, security wise. I’ll keep Shadwell with me at all times and we have the new security system. I’ll be as safe as it’s possible to be at the shop. But I need to be surrounded by my books again. They center me and give me purpose. Imagine being completely kept away from your music?”

Crowley’s eyes were pleading, and Aziraphale felt like a bastard. But he held firm. 

“I don’t want to hide anymore, Crowley. You can set up as many security measures as you need to, but I need this. I _need_ it. Please.”

“Is there _nothing_ I can say? I'll do anything, angel. Anything at all, if you’ll just wait until he’s caught.”

“I know this must be difficult for you. And I wouldn’t put you through this if I didn't think it would be alright - and if I didn’t need it so badly.”

Crowley just deflated a bit. “Alright. Fine. I give in.”

Aziraphale gave him a soft but radiant smile. “Thank you, darling. Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I love you, too. But I’m not happy about this.”

“I know you're not, but I appreciate it anyway.”

“When do you want to do this?”

“I think I’d like to go back Monday.”

“So I have four days.”

“It won’t be bad, Crowley. I promise.”

“Do you _swear_ to me to never let Shadwell out of your sight? And to use the security system?”

“Of course, darling.”

“And I’m going to check on you throughout the day.”

“I’d expect no less.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand again. “I tell you what I’ll do.”

“What’s that?”

“On Monday, I’ll talk to Newt and Tracy about hiring more people for the shop, like you suggested. So we can go away together every few weeks.”

One corner of Crowley’s mouth quirked up. “You will?”

“I will. I’d like to talk with them about it in person, but if they’re alright with it, I’ll put out an advert on Tuesday. It’ll take a few weeks to hire someone - or someones - but I expect we could possibly go away again for a week or so in about six weeks.”

Crowley smiled. “I think I can wait six weeks. That will be something to look forward to.”

“Does that make it better?”

“A bit, yeah. But I’m still going to be a ball of nerves while you’re at work until they catch this arsehole. I may hang around the shop a lot.”

“They’ll catch him soon. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, I’ll be as safe as humanly possible. I promise.”

He sighed. “Oh, alright.”

“Thank you. I’ll notify Newt and Tracy and put a sign in the door that says we’ll be reopening Monday when we’re at my flat packing.”

“As long as you’re safe.”

“I will be. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

~*~O~*~

_20 September_

Aziraphale hummed to himself as he puttered around the shop on Monday morning. He was alone at the moment, except for Shadwell, but Tracy was due in a few minutes, and Newt wouldn’t be long behind her. The press were gathered outside the shop, but that hadn’t slowed business today. He’d had a steady stream of customers to keep him busy until Tracy arrived. 

He was helping a customer when she came in, and when the customer left, she came to the counter, tying her apron around her waist. Aziraphale smiled at her happily. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said, pulling her in for a hug. 

“I'm glad to see you, too,” Tracy said. “It feels like it’s been ages.”

“It seems that way, yes.”

“Have you been safe?”

“Yes, I’m quite well.”

“Have there been any other incidents?”

“No, none that I’m aware of. Crowley seems to think we’re due for one.”

“Oh, I hope not.” 

“I hope not, too. But let’s talk of more pleasant things.”

Tracy smiled. “Absolutely. What have you been up to?”

“Well, the last week or so has been busy with me moving fully into the flat.”

“How is it?”

“I love it. I truly love it. It is absolutely a dream home.”

“Oh, good,” she said. “I’m so glad to hear that, What did Crowley think of his surprise?”

“Oh, he _loved_ it. We’ve spent time just about every evening up there, him playing the guitar and me reading. It’s very meditative. I’m so thrilled you made the suggestion, dear - although I haven’t told _him_ it was your idea. Selfish me, I’ve been hogging the credit.”

She laughed. “That’s fine, I meant for you to take the credit. What do you think of _your_ surprise?”

Aziraphale smiled radiantly. “I absolutely love it. It’s wonderful, and I thank you for your help with it.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it. Have you been able to use it much?”

“A bit, yes. Crowley wants me to start restoring books full time, out of our home.”

“Maybe you should.”

“But dear, the shop…”

“Just a suggestion,” she said airily, although Aziraphale detected underlying seriousness.

Newt came in then, and the three of them made small talk around customers for a bit. When Aziraphale’s mobile went off for the fifth time that day, he knew who it was. He excused himself from the conversation and pulled it out, smiling a little tiredly, a little indulgently. 

Crowley: _How are things?_  
Aziraphale: _They’re good. Much like they were thirty minutes ago._  
Crowley: _Sorry. I worry._  
Aziraphale: _I know, and I love you for it. xx_  
Aziraphale: _Would it ease your mind to see me?_  
Crowley: _*YES*_  
Aziraphale: _Would you like to do lunch? Say around two?_  
Crowley: _I’ll be there with bells on. I love you. xx_  
Aziraphale: _I love you, too. xx_

“Is everything alright?” Newt asked.

“Oh, they’re just fine. Tickety boo. It was just Crowley. I promised to check in with him throughout the day. He’s worried.”

“Well, to be fair, we are too,” Tracy said. “Both of us are concerned you’ve opened the shop too soon.”

“I can’t hide out _forever_.”

“No one is saying ‘forever’, dear. But maybe until this person is caught.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Now you sound like Crowley.”

“Crowley is wise.”

“Don’t tell _him_ that. But I’ll tell you what I told him: I needed to be back at work, surrounded by my books and friends. It wasn’t a want, it was a need.”

“The biggest need is to keep you safe.”

“I wouldn’t have come back if I thought it was _un_ safe,” Aziraphale sniffed. 

“Could it be that you were blinded by the desire to be near your books?”

“I’d have thought you’d be _happy_ to be returning to work.”

“I am. We are. But I think both of us would feel better if you weren’t here. For your own safety, dear.”

“Well, perhaps you’ll get your wish. I have a question for both of you.”

Just then, the bell on the door chimed and two customers came in. Newt and Tracy went to help them while Aziraphale piddled at the counter waiting for them to be done. When the customers left, he turned to them again. 

“I’ve had a talk with Crowley, and I wanted to run something by the two of you.”

“What is it, boss?”

“What would you two think of me hiring a couple of people? 

They looked at each other and shrugged. “It’s fine by us,” Newt said. “Why?”

“Well, Crowley has expressed that he’d like for us to do a bit of traveling, and I think that would be fun.”

“I think that’s a _splendid_ idea,” Tracy said approvingly. 

“You do?”

“Yes, of course. Aziraphale, you’ve been at this shop every day of your life for the last eighteen years. You _deserve_ to be able to travel, to have fun with your bloke. You’ve earned it.”

“And you’re both really alright with it? You’ll have to help me train the new person. Or people.”

“That won’t be a problem for either of us.”

“Well, if you’re sure…:”

“We’re sure, boss. You should put an advert out today.”

“Yes, I think I will. And I may dig the old ‘help wanted’ sign out of the back, too.”

“Is Crowley coming to take you to lunch?” Newt asked.

“He is. I hadn’t planned on going to lunch today, but he's been so anxious about me being back at work. So I’m humoring him.”

The bell rang over the door and another customer came in. Newt went to help them, leaving him with Tracy. Aziraphale turned to speak to her, but whatever he’d intended to say died on his lips when he saw Tracy smiling flirtatiously at Shadwell. Aziraphale glanced at Shadwell just in time to see him wink, a half smile on his face, and go back to his book. Tracy flushed and Aziraphale grinned. 

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” he asked with a knowing look.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said primly. 

“Oh, no, no, dear. That won’t wash. You pried endlessly into my relationship with Crowley, now I’m returning the favor and prying into _your_ personal life. Spill.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she said, her eyes averted coyly. “He’s come to my home a few times and I’ve done readings for him.”

“I see,” Aziraphale said, smug. “And did the cards tell him to be open to alluring redheads?” he teased. 

“That’s private,” Tracy said, her cheeks pink. 

Aziraphale bit back a giggle. “Have you seen him any other time?”

“I have, in fact. He’s come for coffee a couple of times.”

“Coffee,” Aziraphale repeated, deadpan, his eyes twinkling. 

“Oh, stop,” Tracy said, swatting at him. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m actually very happy for you, dear. You deserve happiness, just like anyone else. You deserve it more than most, I think.”

“Thank you. It’s very early, but I’m happy so far. Now we just need to get Newt settled.”

“Well, maybe I can look to hire pretty young women for the shop,” Aziraphale joked. 

“Maybe so,” she said with a smile. 

Aziraphale chuckled again, then looked over his shoulder towards the back room. “While it’s quiet, I’m going to step into the back and work on the Doyle a bit, until Crowley gets here. If you need me, just let me know.”

“Will do, boss. Have fun!”

He gave her a smile, then went to the rare book room to retrieve the Sherlock Holmes he was working on and took it to the back room. He had about an hour and a half before Crowley was set to arrive, and hoped to get a good bit of work done. He put the music on the classical jazz station the way Newt had shown him and turned the volume down, so it was just pleasant background noise, then settled in to work, happy as a clam, thinking everything was right in his world. When anxious messages came from Crowley, he told his love to come as soon as he was ready, to ease his mind.

He had just gotten the binding off and was delicately working on it when he heard a commotion outside. He looked up from the book, curious, his eyebrows knitted. Then he heard Tracy yell “Fire!” and his blood ran cold. 

Aziraphale darted out into the shop and the first thing he noticed was all the smoke. He looked to his right and saw flames dancing and licking in nonfiction. His mind froze and he was paralyzed, his instincts screaming at him to do different things. His first thought, of course, was to get everyone out. But he couldn’t help but wonder at light speed if he should try to save the books. 

He had only a split second to think before he was approached by a large man, tall, stocky, and balding, and he snapped back into reality. 

“Sir, you must leave at once! The shop is on fire!” he said urgently. 

The man gave him a cold, evil grin, revealing a gold tooth, and Aziraphale barely had a moment to feel afraid before the man had punched him in the gut. 

Aziraphale fell to the floor, doubled over in pain, his hands clutching his stomach. When he looked up, the man was gone, and the shop was filling even more with smoke. 

He felt something wet on his hands and looked down to find them covered in blood, the butt of a knife sticking out of his belly. He wondered about it for a moment, then slumped to the ground and knew no more.


	35. Chapter 35

_Thirty minutes earlier…_

Crowley had been playing his guitar aimlessly for the last five hours, since Aziraphale had left to go to work. It was all he’d been able to do. He’d tried to write, to channel all his anxious thoughts into song, but hadn’t been able to concentrate well enough. He had the horrible, sinking feeling that something was going to go wrong, that the stalker was going to act out again. He had no _reason_ to believe that, since everything had been quiet since the hotel incident. The quiet soothed Aziraphale, who believed that the stalker was probably hiding out after his face had been splashed all over the place. Crowley wasn’t so sure. He knew that they were dealing with a psychopath, a deeply disturbed person, and that logic didn’t apply to the equation here. No one could predict the thoughts or actions of a madman, and that’s what this stalker was. An absolute madman. 

It had taken all of Crowley’s willpower not to go to the shop and hang around, just so he could keep Aziraphale in his sights. He’d managed to only text every thirty or forty-five minutes, although his instinct was to text every few seconds and keep Aziraphale in a steady stream of conversation. On their last exchange, Aziraphale had offered to have lunch with him, which was a relief. He hadn’t wanted to ask, to pester Aziraphale, but was tremendously comforted that Aziraphale had suggested it. Privately, he resolved to take a _lengthy_ lunch with Aziraphale, and then to putter around the shop until it was time to close that evening. It would only be a few hours after they got back from eating. Crowley could entertain himself that long. And then Aziraphale would be able to go with him. Honestly, he didn't think he was capable of leaving Aziraphale alone in the shop again after lunch. This morning had been excruciating, and his anxiety was growing. He could only hope that Aziraphale would understand. 

He was supposed to meet Aziraphale in an hour. It took about fifteen or twenty minutes to get to the shop, so that left him with forty or forty-five minutes to fill. He could do that, right? Sure he could. He’d lived forty-one years without Aziraphale, after all. He had survived perfectly well all that time without him. 

But that gnawing, clawing dread kept working at him, that feeling that _something_ wasn’t right. His mind spun with all the horrible things that could happen, and he couldn’t help himself. He picked up the phone and sent a text. 

Crowley: _Any thoughts about where you want to eat?_

Thank _Christ_ , Aziraphale texted back right away. 

Aziraphale: _I just figured we could go to Rodrigo's since we haven’t been in a while, but I’m open to anything you want._

Crowley was trying to formulate an answer, a way to continue the conversation, when the three little dots appeared again, so he waited. 

Aziraphale: _I know what you're doing, by the way. I’m fine._  
Crowely: _I’m sorry. I can’t help it._  
Aziraphale: _It’s alright. Would you like to go to lunch a little early?_  
Crowley: _Yes. Please._  
Aziraphale: _Alright, darling. Come on whenever you’re ready. I’ll be in the back working on a book._

Crowley did not need to be told twice. 

Crowley: _I’ll be there in 20mins. I love you xx_  
Aziraphale: _I love you, too. xx_

He hardly paused to put his guitar away properly before he grabbed his keys and dashed out of the door, headed to see his love.

~*~O~*~

Crowley couldn't get near the shop because of all the paparazzi, so he parked a couple of streets away, near the florists’ shop. It had been a few weeks since he’d brought Aziraphale flowers, and he figured he should. Besides, he thought they might serve as a _‘sorry I’m being a bit of an overbearing fiancé’_ gift. At any rate, he thought they’d make Aziraphale happy, and that was all that mattered. That Aziraphale was happy. 

Well, that wasn’t _all_ that mattered. It was most important that his beloved was safe and healthy. But having him happy was a very close second. 

He darted into the florists’ shop and picked up a large bouquet of red and white roses, then stepped back onto the pavement, headed towards the shop. With every step he took, he felt just the tiniest bit better. He’d be seeing his love in just a few minutes, and all would be well. Aziraphale would tut at him for being such a worry wart, and that would be fine. He could tut all he wanted, as long as he was _safe_. Yes, this would be alright, he told himself. All of this would be okay. He'd feel silly, and that would be the worst of it. 

There was a crowd gathered in front of the shop, but he wasn't surprised. He’d expected to see paparazzi. What _was_ alarming was the _density_ of the crowd - and the smell of smoke. His heart rate picked up unpleasantly and he tasted bile at the back of his throat. The smell of smoke grew the closer he got to the shop, but there was a wall of people around and he couldn't get close. Frightened, he elbowed through them to get to the door. 

Suddenly, the wall of people was no more and he was in a clearing in front of the shop. Shadwell and two photographers that Crowley vaguely recognized were wrestling with a large man on the ground. The smell of smoke was powerful and he looked to see it billowing out of the shop. But he didn’t see Aziraphale. Terror clutched his throat. 

“Where is Aziraphale?” he shouted at no one in particular, uncaring who answered. 

“He’s inside!” Shadwell shouted back, making Crowley’s heart seize with fear. 

Without a second thought, he threw the bouquet to the ground and ran into the burning building. The smoke was thick, stinging his eyes and throat, making him cough, but he didn’t slow down. All he could think about was Aziraphale. He had to find Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale!” he shouted. “Where the hell are you? I can’t find you!”

There was no answer, only the roar of the fire, but Crowley didn’t stop searching. He looked in every area he could find that wasn’t engulfed in flames, coughing endlessly, his eyes stinging. But he refused to give up. 

He finally found Aziraphale slumped on the floor at the entrance to the back room, and the rush of relief he felt was quickly replaced by terror when he realized Aziraphale wasn’t moving. 

“Aziraphale,” he shouted, rushing to him and dropping to his knees. “Aziraphale, wake up!”

He couldn't see Aziraphale’s face, so he grabbed his shoulder and turned him over. Aziraphale’s eyes were closed and he looked asleep, and Crowley looked down to see a huge bloody spot on his belly and the butt of a knife sticking out of his gut. 

“Oh, fuck,” he said, then immediately started shouting. “ _Somebody help! Help me! Please, help_!”

He was preparing to lift Aziraphale and carry him out into the street himself when heard someone calling from behind him. Crowley spun around to find Newt coming in, bent at the waist, coughing, and he’d never been so happy to see someone. 

“Oh, thank fuck you’re here. He’s been stabbed. We’ve got to get him out.”

“Go to his head,” Newt said, taking a position at Aziraphale’s feet. Crowley scrambled to do as he’d been told. “On the count of three, lift. One. Two. Three! Lift!”

Crowley used all his strength to lift Aziraphale’s body and the two of them shuffled out of the front door as quickly as they could, lungs burning and eyes streaming. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally they were out on the pavement, in fresh, clean air, and they both took great lungfuls. They dragged Aziraphale out to the street, laying him down as gently as they could, then Crowley was on his knees beside him, tears falling like rain. 

“Aziraphale, angel, wake up,” he said desperately, his voice rough from the smoke, tears streaking his soot-stained face. “Wake up, angel.”

“Crowley!” he heard from behind him. “Crowley, look at me!”

He ignored them, all his attention focused on Aziraphale. Newt had come to the other side of Aziraphale and put two fingers on his neck to check his pulse, then lay his head on Aziraphale’s chest to listen for breaths. 

“He’s alive,” Newt said, and Crowley nearly collapsed. 

“Crowley! Crowley! I did it for you! I did it for us!” he heard, as if from a long distance away. He still didn’t look, just picked up Aziraphale’s limp left hand. 

“Aziraphale, angel, _please_ wake up. I need you. _Please_ don’t leave me. I need you, I need you so much…”

He was hunched over Aziraphale, weeping, praying to a God he hadn’t communed with since he was a child, bargaining. He’d do anything - anything if Aziraphale could just be okay. 

“He’s waking up!” Newt said, and Crowley raised his head to find Aziraphale blinking his eyes open. 

“Crowley,” he croaked. 

“Hiya, angel,” Crowley said, tears still flowing, unsure what else to say. 

“You came.”

“Of course I came, you daft bastard.”

Behind Crowley, there was more shouting and the sounds of approaching sirens. 

“I’ve been hurt.”

“Yes, but you’re going to be alright. I fucking promise.”

“Are _you_ alright?”

Crowley huffed a wet laugh. “Yeah, angel. I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

“I think I’m going to sleep now,” Aziraphale said, his voice weak. 

“No, angel… stay with me… I need you to stay with me.”

“I love you, darling,” he mumbled, then his eyes closed again. 

Crowley let out a wrenching sob, clinging to Aziraphale’s hand, until he was shoved aside by a paramedic who was there to save Aziraphale.

~*~O~*~

_21 September_

Aziraphale woke up very slowly, as if swimming up from the bottom of a deep lake. He was disoriented, and even before he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. He was propped up, for one thing, and he never slept sitting up. For another thing, there was a beeping and a whooshing sound he couldn’t place. He reached out instinctively, but there was something attached to his arm and his hand hit something solid. What on earth?

With a mighty effort, he opened his eyes to look around and get his bearings. He was in a hospital room, it seemed, sterile and drab, with watery light coming in through the window that led him to believe it was either dawn or dusk. There were several bouquets of flowers, more than a couple of balloons that all read ‘get well soon’, and he was in a hospital gown. The thing attached to his arm was an IV, taped to the back of his hand, and on the other arm was a blood pressure cuff. The beeping was from one of the machines he was hooked up to via leads he could feel on his chest, and the whooshing was from oxygen being pumped up his nose. 

To his left was Crowley, holding his left hand, his head bent and lying on the bed, his rust colored curls spilling onto the drab blanket. He was apparently asleep. What on earth had happened? Had he taken ill? Aziraphale’s mind was so foggy, he couldn’t remember anything. He was loath to wake Crowley, but perhaps he’d have answers. 

Aziraphale squeezed his hand gently and said, “Crowley.” His voice was raspy, hardly more than a whisper, so he cleared his sore throat and said it again, a little more loudly. 

“Crowley.”

The red head stirred a little, and Aziraphale felt Crowley’s hand squeeze around his, then, like a shot, Crowley’s head was up and he looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes. 

“Angel! You’re awake! Oh, thank fuck!” he said, kissing Aziraphale’s hand over and over, exuberantly. “Are you alright? Are you in pain?”

“I think I’m alright. Where am I?”

“Nevermind that, you’re alive!”

“Was there doubt I would be?”

“For a while, yes. It was the scariest day of my life.”

“I’m in the hospital?”

“Yes. In intensive care.”

“ _Why_ am I in the hospital, in intensive care?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Aziraphale tried to think, screwing up his face in concentration, and slowly, things started to come back to him. “I was working on a book in the back room, and there was a commotion. Tracy yelled, so I went out to see what was going on.” Then he remembered and his eyes widened. “There was a fire. I think I met the stalker. He punched me in the gut.”

“You did meet him but he didn’t punch you, he stabbed you.”

“I was stabbed?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m alright?”

“Not yet, but you will be. It’s a miracle the knife didn’t hit anything more vital than your bowel. It’s another miracle that he left the knife in. If he’d pulled it out or hit somewhere else, you’d be dead.”

“Goodness,” Aziraphale said. 

“Goodness had nothing to do with it. There’s no goodness in Sandalphon Engel.”

“Is that his name?”

“Yes.”

“And he stabbed me?”

Crowley nodded. “He did. With an eight inch blade. It took nine hours of surgery to fix you up, but the doctors promise me you’ll be alright. You’re also being treated for smoke inhalation.”

“That explains the tube in my nose.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah, you have to keep that for a while longer.”

Aziraphale shook that aside. “Nevermind that. Are _you_ alright?”

“I’m fine, angel. Had to have a little bit of oxygen myself, but I finally convinced them that I’m okay.”

“Why did you have to be treated?”

“Because I ran into the shop after you.”

Aziraphale was aghast. “Crowley!”

“What?”

“You could have been killed!”

Crowley kissed his knuckles again. “I’d run into certain death a thousand times to keep you safe, angel.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“Physically, yes. Mentally - I may not let you out of my sight for the next ten years.”

“I think I’d be alright with that, right at the moment,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. “So he’s caught? This Sandal fellow?”

“Sandalphon Engel, and yes. He’s been caught. He confessed to everything: the calls, the emails, the texts: he was the person that spraypainted the babydoll and he was the ‘busboy’ that messed with the food. Just that would have been enough to put him away for a long time, but now he’s been charged with - and confessed to - arson and attempted murder. He’s going away for the rest of his life.”

“Why did he do all of this?”

“Because he’s a deranged fan. Claims to be in love with me. He told police that he wanted to be close to me, so he felt like he had to get you out of the way. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore, angel. You’ll have to see him at the trial, but after that, you never have to think about him again.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to forget about him,” Aziraphale said. “Are Tracy and Newt alright? Was anyone else hurt?”

“No one else was hurt. Newt was treated for smoke inhalation, same as me, because he ran in to help me get you out. Shadwell took a right cross to the eye in the scuffle with Engel, and a punch cracked a tooth, but he’s fine. Tracy’s taking care of him.”

“They’ve been seeing each other,” Aziraphale said with a small smile, suddenly remembering. 

Crowley gave a small smile in return. “I know.”

“Nine hours of surgery? Oh, you poor dear. You must have been beside yourself.”

“I - yeah. I was.”

“Were you alone?”

“No. Newt and Tracy were there for part of the time, and my mother came. She’s worried sick about you - about both of us. I need to text her, actually. And the band. I promised I’d keep them updated. But that can wait for a few minutes. I’m here with you now.”

“Have you eaten anything? Or slept?”

Crowley grinned. “Now you sound like my mother.”

“Have you?”

“I ate a bit at about eleven last night, after you came to the recovery room. Mum refused to leave until I did. And I’ve been asleep in this chair for the last few hours.”

“Oh, Crowley. You must feel so dreadful.”

“Nah,” Crowley said, pressing another kiss to his knuckles. “You’re alive and you’re going to be okay. I’m the happiest man in the world.”

Aziraphale chuckled, shaking his body, and cringed in pain. Crowley noticed at once. “Are you alright?”

“Just some pain in my abdomen.”

Without a word, Crowley reached across his body, pressing a button. A moment later, a voice asked ‘yes?’ and Crowley said, “He’s awake and in pain. Could you bring him some medicine?”

“Right away.”

“Oh, darling. You didn’t have to do that. It was just a little pain.”

“Even a little pain is unacceptable. I want to keep you as comfortable as I can. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They were interrupted when the nurse came in to administer the medication and check on Aziraphale. She was friendly, pretty, and Aziraphale watched with detached amusement when she made eyes at Crowley. Crowley was typing on his phone with one hand, his other holding Aziraphale’s, and didn’t respond. She asked about his pain level and took his vital signs, then administered the pain medication into the IV. Even though he hadn’t been in blinding pain before, he had to admit to feeling much better when the medication hit his system. 

Finally she left, and Crowley put his mobile away, wrapping his hand around Aziraphale’s and kissing his knuckles again. 

“How are you feeling now?”

“A little bit woozy,” he admitted. 

“That’s the morphine. You’ll probably be asleep again soon.”

“Were you texting your mother?”

“Yes, and the band and Newt and Tracy. I told them all you’re awake and doing well, so they wouldn’t worry. Mum texted right back and said she’d be here in an hour. I’m surprised I was able to keep her home this long. She’s worried sick about her crumpet.”

“You should go home for a while when she comes. Have a shower and a meal.”

“Are you saying I smell bad?” Crowley teased. 

“No, I can’t smell anything with this oxygen up my nose. But I do wish you’d do something to take care of yourself.”

“I don’t want to leave you, angel. Never again.”

“But you have to care for yourself, dear. Please. For me?”

Crowley sighed. “I tell you what. After Mum gets here, while you’re asleep, I’ll go home and shower and shave and change clothes. I’ll grab a couple changes of clothes so I don’t have to leave again. And maybe I’ll grab a bite to eat while I’m gone. But don't expect me to be gone for more than I have to be. I’m thinking an hour, tops. And I’ll be texting Mum the whole time.”

“I think that will be alright,” Aziraphale said. Then he quieted, thinking of the question he’d been putting off. Finally, he swallowed and said, “So… my shop…”

“It burned down, angel.”

Aziraphale was quiet a minute. He’d known that, or at least suspected, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. 

“Is it…. is it _all_ gone?” he asked in a small voice. 

Crowley gave him a tiny smile. “No, in fact, the rare book room was left unscathed. The fire didn’t do any damage at all to any of the rare books.”

Aziraphale smiled. “That’s a relief.”

“Don’t worry about the rest of it, angel. We’re going to rebuild, if that’s what you want. It’ll be grand - the best bookshop London has ever seen. You’ll be the envy of every shop owner in London.”

“I don’t think I have quite _that_ much insurance.”

“So think of it as a wedding gift.”

He chuckled again - this time without pain. “You’re so silly.”

“Maybe I am. But I’m in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” Aziraphale said dreamily, then drifted off to sleep before he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue on Thursday to tie up all the loose ends and (hopefully) answer any remaining questions!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it. I can’t believe this story is over! It’s been such a huge part of my life for six months and I’m terribly sad to see it end. But knowing it brought joy to so many of you brings _me_ joy. That’s why I write.
> 
> Huge thanks to Lurlur, rose—nebula, and especially Naro Moreau for their support. and the world’s biggest thanks to you for all your kudos and comments. I love you guys. 
> 
> And now, the conclusion of Win a Date!

Cabo was nice - better than nice. It was paradise on earth, and Crowley resolved to give Anathema a hefty bonus for suggesting they honeymoon there. The villa they were staying at was attached to a resort, so they had the perks of room service and waiters bringing drinks on the beach, if they wanted, but was still very secluded, so they felt quite alone. All the staff had been required to sign a non-disclosure agreement, which was welcome after the madness surrounding the wedding. Only a handful of people knew where they were, and only two people knew how to contact them. He and Aziraphale had both turned their phones off as soon as they got on the plane and had only turned them back on for their twice-weekly calls to Crowley’s mother. 

Crowley sat on the patio of the villa, guitar in hand, playing aimlessly. He’d written over two dozen songs since he’d met Aziraphale, and had cut demos for some of them. The record company was champing at the bit to get their hands on those demos, to get Crowley and the band back in the studio, and he had to admit that he was feeling that creative itch, himself. With Aziraphale’s blessing, when he got back to London, he’d spend some time cutting and polishing the demos and sending them to the record company, to get the ball rolling. The only part he wasn’t looking forward to was the touring, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Aziraphale could join him on legs of the tour for a couple of weeks at a time, and they wouldn’t have to be apart so dreadfully long. 

He scoffed to himself: even two weeks would be too damn long for his taste. He may very well go mad, but supposed he’d survive. Other people did. Then again, nobody had ever loved anyone the way he loved Aziraphale. He was sure of it. 

The last several months had been kind to them. Aziraphale had been in the hospital for what seemed like an eternity, then been released into Crowley’s care and Crowley had had his angel all to himself for six weeks. They hadn't been idle, though, during that time - they’d spent the weeks planning a spring wedding and working towards reopening Aziraphale’s shop. Crowley had worried endlessly that Aziraphale was doing too much, but Aziraphale had pooh-poohed him, saying he was perfectly capable - and seemed to have been right. He never relapsed and his health had improved every day. By the time he was cleared to go to work, they had nearly the entire wedding planned and had made great strides towards rebuilding the shop. 

Sandalphon Engel had pleaded guilty, relieving them of the nightmare of having to go through a grueling trial. They had both been deeply thankful for the reprieve. He’d been sentenced to fifty years for his crimes, and Crowley very much hoped that that would end up being a life sentence. Given that Engel was forty-seven, it seemed likely it would be. Aziraphale and Crowley had celebrated quietly when he’d been sentenced, then both had tried to put him out of their minds. Aziraphale seemed to do a better job of it than Crowley did. 

There had been no incidents of stalking or major harassment since he’d been caught. 

The building next door to Aziraphale’s had been damaged in the fire, and the owner had decided not to rebuild, choosing to sell it instead. Crowley had surprised Aziraphale by buying it and presenting it as an early wedding gift. Aziraphale had thanked him with many, many kisses, then set about turning the two damaged buildings into one perfect shop. He’d expanded nearly every section and doubled the size of the rare book room. He’d also added several reading nooks where the customer could sit and read a book for a while before they bought it. Much to Crowley’s delight, he’d added three people to join him, Tracy, and Newt on the staff, and he’d also installed a state-of-the-art security system and fireproofed the entire shop. The new shop was definitely brighter and more modern, but it retained that cozy feel of the old shop, and Aziraphale had been delighted. The new and improved AZ Fell and Co. had opened three months after the fire, and had been enjoying steady business ever since. 

The wedding had been beautiful - even if it had been a little later than Crowley had wanted. Aziraphale had asked him gently and kindly when he got home from the hospital to delay the wedding until they could get the shop up and running properly and get Engel behind bars, and Crowley had agreed, only slightly reluctantly. They’d married a week ago, on 12 April, 2022, the anniversary of their first date. The ceremony had been at the Scottish estate, beside the pond where Crowley had proposed, and the reception was held in the house. They’d spent their first night as ineffable husbands there, nestled in their bedroom, then they’d taken off on a flight to come to Cabo six days ago. Crowley never wanted to leave. 

He noodled around on his guitar a bit more, playing a new song he’d been working on for the last couple of days, thinking of Aziraphale. Aziraphale had said he wanted to go sit by the sea and read, and Crowley had let him go with a kiss. But that had been almost two hours ago, and he was starting to miss his husband. He felt a bit of deja vu when he remembered telling Aziraphale a fantasy that started just this way several months ago, when they were staying at the Savoy. With a wicked grin, he set the guitar to the side and called for room service to order a pair of drinks. When they were delivered, Crowley informed them that he and his husband didn’t want to be disturbed for a while, then walked out to the shore, where Aziraphale was. 

He spotted him up ahead, sitting in a chair under an umbrella, next to an empty chair, with little tables sitting beside both. Aziraphale was wearing a wide hat and a tropical shirt with his swim trunks and Crowley loved him so much he feared he may die of it. 

“Hiya, angel,” he said when he got close enough. 

Aziraphale looked up from his book, sunglasses perched on his zinc-covered nose. “Oh hello, dear. Come to join me?”

“I did, and I brought you this,” Crowley said, handing him the drink. 

Aziraphale accepted it with a smile, then took a sip. “Mmm, I do love mai tais.”

“I know you do,” Crowley said with a smirk. 

He hadn’t moved and was still standing beside the empty chair, looking down at Aziraphale, who was looking confused. “Well, darling? Are you going to join me? The sun will be going down soon and it promises to be a beautiful sunset.”

Crowley responded by grinning wickedly, putting his drink down on the table beside his chair, and dropping to his knees in the sand in front of Aziraphale. The angel looked surprised for only a moment before he sat his book and drink to the side, as well, with a knowing grin. 

As soon as he turned back around, Crowley captured his mouth in a kiss, soft and urgent, letting his tongue tangle lazily with Aziraphale’s. He set to work on the buttons of Aziraphale’s tropical shirt, anxious to see him, and enjoyed the way Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s long hair. 

Once he had some of the shirt unbuttoned, he started trailing kisses down Aziraphale’s chest and belly, pausing for a moment when he caught sight of the long, raised, pink scar on his abdomen. He didn't say anything, afraid to break the moment, but pressed a sweet kiss to the scar silently. The soft caress of Aziraphale’s hand told him he understood. 

Then he went back to kissing Aziraphale urgently, swirling his tongue around while he grabbed the waistband of his husband’s trunks and started to pull. Aziraphale lifted his hips accommodatingly and Crowley pulled them down to his thighs, baring his cock. 

By now, he’d seen Aziraphale’s prick hundreds of times, but he never failed to be awed at the sight. It was erect, standing tall and proud, and the head was flushed. It made Crowley want to moan. 

He reached out with his right hand and wrapped his fingers around it. Aziraphale groaned in appreciation. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked, starting to pump.

“Yes, darling.”

“Can I suck you?”

“Absolutely.”

Crowley grinned up at him, then leaned down to take the head of Aziraphale’s cock into his mouth. Aziraphale let out a moan and Crowley did, too - he’d never tasted anything so good. He licked him like a lolly for a few minutes, gathering all his taste, then opened his mouth to take him deeper. 

“Oh, goodness, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, leaning his head back on the chair. “My darling, you suck me so well…”

Crowley started to bob his head, using his hand to stroke what his mouth wasn’t sucking, still using his tongue to stimulate. Aziraphale brought his hands up into Crowley’s hair, the way they both liked it, and wound his fingers through. 

“Yes, my darling… yes, more. Please. Take me deeper.”

Crowley obliged, removing his hand and sliding his mouth all the way down Aziraphale’s cock until his nose was in his pubis and his chin was on his bollocks. Aziraphale let out a ragged sound, tightening his hands, and Crowley bobbed his head as best he could at that depth, making the garbled sounds that Aziraphale loved. 

“Crowley, oh Crowley… yes, my love… Your mouth is so sweet and I love it… give me more. I’m greedy for you, darling. Give me more.”

He sucked him for all he was worth, doing anything he could think of to enhance Aziraphale’s pleasure. He loved the way Aziraphale used his hair to guide him and the utterly filthy things he said. He loved it more when Aziraphale stopped making sense, started babbling fragments of phrases and making guttural sounds, telling Crowley he was close.

“Ah, ah, darling, ah… feels so good… ah, ah! I’m going to come… are you ready? Oh, fuck…”

Crowley’s answer was to suck him harder, making louder sounds and letting Aziraphale hit the back of his throat again. 

“Here I come, Crowley! Ah! Ah! Fuck! Here I come!”

He erupted with a cry, spilling over Crowley’s waiting tongue, and Crowley pumped him, milking him for more. Aziraphale babbled and swore as he came until he pushed Crowley away, panting for breath. 

“Please, darling… no more,” he huffed. 

Crowley happily swallowed the come, then carefully licked Aziraphale’s cock clean while he shuddered with aftershocks. Once he was convinced that he’d gotten all of Aziraphale’s taste, he pressed one last kiss to the head of his cock, then helped him pull his trunks up properly. Crowley leaned forward, still on his knees, and kissed Aziraphale’s slack mouth, then smiled and clambered into his own chair. Once he was seated, he reached and took Aziraphale’s left hand, threading their fingers, Crowley’s engagement ring clinking against Aziraphale’s wedding band. 

“How was that, angel?”

“My darling,” Aziraphale said. “I simply cannot express how wonderful that was. Did you enjoy that?”

“Angel, that was a fantasy come to life. _You’re_ a fantasy come to life.”

“I love you, too, Crowley. My husband.”

Crowley beamed at him. “My husband,” he echoed. Then he kissed Aziraphale sweetly, smiling against his lips, and they turned to the sea to watch the sunset together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two additional notes: Gabriel came to the shop after it reopened to try and win Aziraphale one more time. Crowley happened to be there and intimidated Gabriel into never coming back. 
> 
> Crowley doesn’t wear a wedding ring. Instead, he had Aziraphale’s name tattooed on his left ring finger. Aziraphale opted for a ring.


End file.
